Storm
by Water Fairy a.k.a. Mizu
Summary: Aliens invade Townsville and Blossom disappears. Eight years later, everything has drastically changed. When Buttercup, now a rebel leader, finds Blossom on a random patrol, everything changes. Where has Blossom been? And why can't she remember?
1. Prologue

**Storm**

By Water Fairy a.k.a. Mizu

Disclaimer: I do not own Powerpuff Girls.

Summary: When an alien lands on Earth, Blossom inexplicably disappears. Eight years later, the world has changed drastically. Buttercup is the leader of a group of rebels and Bubbles is a sergeant in the Resistance. Their lives have changed since the disappearance of their beloved leader. But when Buttercup finds a redheaded girl on a random patrol, everything is suddenly changed. Where has Blossom been all these years? And why can't she remember?

This is my first Powerpuff Girls multi-chapter fanfiction, so hopefully the characters won't seem too out of character. Also, I'm not entirely sure about the title. If you have an idea on a better title, PM me please!

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><p><strong>Prologue: Eight Years Ago<strong>

The day everything went wrong started out like any other day in Townsville, USA.

It was a warm, sunny day with a pleasant breeze and cool temperature that made up for the horrendous heat that had dominated most of the summer. As it was a pleasant day, most townsfolk were outside playing or daydreaming from the jobs they were stuck at, minds miles away at some beach or foreign vista. And as it was Townsville, no day would be complete without some sort of mayhem going on.

The smoke billowing from the window of the bank was the first clue that there was a robbery. The screams following the ski-mask clad men was the second clue.

Grinning widely, the men rushed towards their getaway vehicle, waving wildly at the driver. They were actually going get away with it! When was the last time a heist had ever gone right? That's right! Never! Not since those three girls, those Powerpuff Girls, had appeared seven years ago. The lead thief was so excited he felt like his was running on air…until he felt his shirt collar constricting his throat.

"Urk!" he gasped, noticing that he was indeed running on air…suspended by the hand gripping his collar.

"Going somewhere, sir?" the soft feminine voice asked. The thief twisted his head, trying to see the girl he knew lead the guardians of the city. Blossom smiled frostily at the man squirming in her grip.

"Does no one understand that we're supposed to be on vacation?" Buttercup snapped, waving one of the man's cohorts angrily. The man made gurgling noises as he was shaken. The green-eyed girl glared down at the two thieves she held.

Bubbles giggled nervously as she effortlessly held their getaway van ten feet off the ground. "Well, it wasn't like we were very far…we were just coming back from the beach," she reasoned, squeaking when Buttercup threw her a dirty look.

"So? It was _supposed_ to be our day off!" The 'Toughest Fighter' viciously threw the two thieves into the police truck. "Ugh!"

Blossom calmly gave her crook to the police before rising to her arguing sisters. The bickering duo took no notice of their redheaded leader and instead focused on trying to outdo the other in insults. Buttercup, as per usual, was winning with flying colors.

"Girls," Blossom said authoritatively. Buttercup and Bubbles immediately snapped to attention. A small smile formed on Blossom's face before she spoke again. "Let's do a quick sweep of the city." She held up a hand to stop the flood of complaints she knew was coming. "_After_ we drop our stuff off at home."

There were two noises of consent and the three superpowered girls flew off. Minutes later, the three were again in the city, patrolling.

Blossom flew above uptown Townsville, eyes closed as she enjoyed the breeze playing across her face. She could tell that everything was peaceful, a gut feeling she didn't often follow. Letting herself be a child for a moment, Blossom did a twirl mid-flight, giggling light-headedly. She held a hand to her mouth, trying to cover up the chuckles. It wasn't very often that she allowed herself to act her age. For some reason, while her sisters could easily go from being on duty to off, Blossom had a harder time. She supposed it was because she was the leader and therefore supposed to be the most alert at all times.

Townsville had been peaceful for a while. True, there indeed was the occasional monster attack and attempt at thievery, but overall, the city was very much peaceful. Blossom wondered briefly when the criminals had started becoming more cautious. Even the so-called "super villains" were highly wary. The Girls hadn't seen Mojo since July of last year. (Occasional sightings of him buying groceries didn't exactly count.)

Glancing down at her hand, Blossom supposed that the peace didn't really start until two years ago, when they were ten. Ironically, it was also the time when they hit puberty. Along with the usual growing pains, the Girls' bodies finally sprouted the missing features they never had before. Their hands and feet grew fingers and toes and noses and ears appeared on their heads. Their bodies became more proportional and their eyes started taking on a normal look. (They were still larger than the usual, but not as huge as they had been.) It hadn't been a pleasant experience, either, their puberty; oh no, it had been downright painful. Not to mention that soon after it hit, they received their periods. (Not all at the same time, thankfully for the Professor; Buttercup had been first.)

The whole process had taken a week and a lot of moaning and groaning from the Girls. The Professor couldn't even give them any pain-killers because their bodies burnt it off so quickly. During the period when Blossom and her sisters were incapacitated, Ms. Keane had been called in to explain what was happening to them and also the infamous talk of the birds and the bees. Bubbles had fainted halfway through and no one knew whether it was the talk itself or just from pain. (Bubbles had been sprouting her toes around that time and both Buttercup and Blossom remembered fainting when their toes had sprouted too.) And in some miraculous coincidence, no crime whatsoever happened. Until after the whole process ended, that is, but that is a story for another time.

So, yes, Blossom's patrol of Townsville was peaceful. The twelve-year-old girl stretched her arms out and alighted on top of one of the taller skyscrapers. Looking down at the streets, Blossom let out a sigh. She now understood why Buttercup needed a weekly sparring partner. It was enjoyable, yes, having no crime, but at the same time, it was boring. And there were only so many times Blossom could reread the books she owned. To the pass the time, she had finally gotten the Professor to allow her to join dancing classes, something that Blossom had wanted to do for a while. It was one of the few things that she was better at than her sisters (asides from her smarts). Bubbles was better than her in art and Buttercup was better with sports, but dancing, dancing was something Blossom was the best at.

Blossom sighed again, taking flight. She almost wished a monster would show up or another robbery would happen. Her dance classes were in the evening and there weren't any recitals going on for a while. It was about now that Blossom wished the Rowdyruff Boys hadn't disappeared off the face of the planet two years previous. Her fights with the Rowdyruff leader had always been the most challenging and, dare she say it, thrilling. While not the sharpest tool visibly, Brick had often surprised Blossom with how well he could match her strategies. Of course, those strategies of his never really expanded outside when it was only she and he fighting, but nonetheless he could match her extremely well.

"_Well, of course he would, wouldn't he?"_ Blossom thought, flying towards City Hall. _"Brick was made to be my ultimate match."_

As she flew towards the meeting place she and her sisters' had agreed upon, Blossom noticed a sudden shadow appear under her. Alarm bells suddenly went off in her mind and the Powerpuff leader rolled onto her back to see a large black ship floating above her. Her mouth dropped open, rosy eyes widening. The ship was shaped like a lily-pad and was black as pitch. Small white-blue lights pulsated across the surface and Blossom quickly moved from under the ship. Floating level with the side, the redheaded preteen flew closer, within reaching distance. As she reached out, placing her palm against the hull, she marveled at how cool it felt, as well as the weird texture. It felt almost rubbery, but strangely nice.

The pulsating lights flocked to her hand and Blossom was mesmerized by the flashing. A part of her mind screamed at her to move, to get away from the spaceship, but her mind was blurry and she felt oddly content. The ship floated on, until it was above City Hall, and stopped, hovering like a lazy bumblebee. The superheroine still stuck to the ship barely registered the flash of light that was immediately followed by screams from the citizens of Townsville. Some part of her knew that she needed to go help, to see what was happening, and as Blossom finally started pulling her hand off the hull, a deep chuckle came from her right.

Expecting to see some super villain, maybe Mojo or Him, Blossom was instantly shocked to see what looked like a humanoid version of the ship standing on the hull. She opened her mouth to demand who he was, but only let out a pathetic whimper. Gritting her teeth, the redhead ripped her hand away from the ship and immediately went into a fighting stance, ignoring the sudden wave of fear that flooded her system. The being simply smiled at her and his teeth stood out with stark contrast against his night sky skin.

"W-Who are you?" Blossom snapped, cursing the stutter that came out. Her fists instantly pulsed with pink light as the alien walked across the hull to her. "Stay back! Why are you here?"

The alien paused, tilting his head before he chuckled again. "I am Aterex and I am here for this world." With that said, the alien lunged at Blossom.

The rush of fear that had been building inside her burst out and Blossom shrieked as the alien wrapped his arms around her. As she struggled bitterly against him, she looked up into his face. Her eyes suddenly drooped as if she was tired and the last thing she saw was his blazing white grin against the darkness of unconsciousness.


	2. Lost and Found

**Storm**

_Trivia: Mrs. Cavadini's name comes from Blossom's voice actor, Cathy Cavadini. Aterex's name is the combination of the Latin words, _ater_ meaning black and _rex_ meaning king. _

_Note: Cryokinesis is the scientific(?) name for ice powers._

_Random trivia pertaining to the story will be displayed up here hopefully every chapter._

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><p><strong>Chapter 1: Lost and Found<strong>

The ruins of the once proud city of Townsville were all that she could see. Well, that, and the distinctive dark castle and architecture that dominated the area around what had been City Hall. There a new city stood; smaller than what had been the Powerpuff Girls' home, but still a city. A city of death and darkness and blood, built in a futuristic, yet medieval way. It stood for everything that she now fought against; stood for what could happen to her. The ruler of that city, and of the world, had taken over so easily. It was awe-inspiring and fear-ensuing, how fast and easily he had. The army he had used had been huge and the fact that he had taken out all other superheroes had been chilling. They had been more skilled than she and her sisters. Sure, they had saved them once, but the supermen had had more experience. The Powerpuff Girls may have been superheroes, but they had only been children, only novices.

Now, however, Buttercup was the leader of a band of rebels. And she wanted Aterex to pay.

She didn't remember when she learned the conqueror's name. She supposed maybe someone from the Resistance had told her it once. All Buttercup needed to know was that Aterex was the number one suspect in Blossom's disappearance. And her sister had disappeared, not died. No matter what she had screamed at Bubbles those many years ago, she did not believe that Blossom was never coming back. All those patrols she did, all those missions to look for survivors not found by Aterex's army or the Resistance, Buttercup had been looking for her lost sister.

She had never found her.

But that didn't mean she was going to stop.

Clutching the coffee mug to her chest, the twenty-year-old ex-superhero looked blankly at the Resistance sergeant sitting at the kitchen table. She still wasn't sure why the headquarters for her rebellion was located above one of the entrances to the Resistance's tunnels. She also wasn't sure why she hadn't moved; then she remembered that while she was the leader, Buttercup still relied heavily on the matronly Mrs. Cavadini who had taken care of her when she had ran away from the Resistance. Shaking her head, Buttercup pinched the bridge of her nose. She still didn't understand why the commanding officers of the Resistance felt the need to appear at all hours of the night, instead of a nice, normal hour like, say, one in the afternoon? When she was actually functional?

Blinking blearily, she took a sip of coffee before addressing the sergeant. "Butch, why the _fuck_ did you wake me up when Harry was already awake at the computers?"

Butch grinned widely at his irritated counterpart, taking in her bedraggled appearance. Buttercup was clad in a black T-shirt that he immediately noticed was too big for her and gray sweatpants. Her black hair, so much like his, was messy and tussled and Butch felt his grin form into something predatory. He knew Buttercup would never give him the time of day, but that didn't mean he couldn't look. He leaned back in his chair, his uniform jacket open to expose the tight black shirt he wore under it.

"Because I just love you soooo much," he joked, cackling maniacally at Buttercup's disgusted face. "Okay, truthfully? I thought you might want to hear what happened on our way back from the battlefield."

"I swear, if this is another tale of some twisted orgy or shit you did, Butch, so help me, I will choke you with your own trachea and use you entrails to dangle you from the rafters," Buttercup threatened, finally taking a seat across from her ex-archrival. She slapped away the hand that was trying to swipe her mug, scowling at the pout he gave her. It was three in the morning, there was no way he was getting her coffee.

"No, no, nothing like that," Butch answered, waving his hand airily. He leaned forward conspiratorially, resting his head on his fist. "So, as I said, we were heading back from battle. We, of course, kicked their asses, but we had to retreat, Brick's orders. So, we're heading back and all of a sudden, we're ambushed, right? Completely took us off guard. Not to mention, the fucking Powerpunks were leading the charge."

Buttercup tightened her grip on her mug, reluctantly letting Butch ease it from her grasp a moment later when it audibly cracked. She hated those rip-offs almost as much as Aterex. Hell, she hated Aterex more than she did Butch and _that_ was saying something. (Not that she exactly hated Butch anymore; they just had a…rough relationship, no pun intended.)

The Resistance sergeant gauged Buttercup's expression before continuing. "So, yeah, the punks are leading the charge and we're pretty beat up from the previous battle. But before any shit can go down, this wall of ice appears out of nowhere and suddenly Berserk is blasting off somewhere. Then she comes back and shouts for a retreat."

Buttercup frowned. Wall of ice? "That's it?" she asked, looking up at Butch.

The Rowdyruff Boy raised his eyebrows. "'That's it'? Is that all you have to say? I just gave you some evidence that your sister may be alive."

"There is no maybe, she _is_ alive!" Buttercup snapped, slamming her fist down on the table. The table gave creak in protest, but stayed stubbornly together. She glared at her counterpart, thinking over what he just told her. Could Blossom be appearing now? After eight years? "Could it have been her?" she mumbled, leaning back and wrapping her arms around herself. She didn't even react when Butch's eyes dropped to her chest. "Could it have been…?"

Butch never knew how to act when that pained look entered Buttercup's eyes. He wasn't good with emotions, that was Boomer's field. But as the raven-haired young man watched the rebel leader, he almost wished he did know what to say to make her feel better. However, this was Butch and there was no way in hell that Butch, the self-proclaimed strongest of the Rowdyruffs, was going to be all mushy to anyone, let alone his counterpart. Suddenly having a sour taste in his mouth, Butch made a note to beat the crap out of Boomer when the blonde got back.

"It was a weird experience, anyway," he said, shrugging, taking a sip of her coffee. Immediately, the green ruff made a face and spat the coffee back into her cup. "Argh. How can you drink this?"

"What? Black coffee with sugar?" Buttercup asked, pushing away the cup he had placed back in front of her. "Not all of us are coffee snobs, pencil dick."

"No wonder you have no fucking taste buds," Butch muttered, getting out of his chair. He crossed to the fridge and rummaged through it, pulling out a beer. "Ugh."

"Stop being a baby," Buttercup said, rolling her eyes. She guessed that Butch's bitching was his way of making her feel better and she was kinda happy that Butch never tried being touchy-feely. One, Buttercup hated that and two, if he did do that, he wouldn't be Butch. "So you guys crashing for the night?"

"Technically, it's morning," Butch pointed out, the beer bottle close to his mouth. "But, yeah, we'll be crashing here for a bit."

"That 'for a bit' better be only eight hours," Buttercup said, standing. She stretched, yawning widely. "I'm hitting the hay. Thanks for the tidbit." She paused at the doorway of the kitchen and turned to her counterpart, eyes narrowed. "You stay in the main room. You even _think_ of coming near my room, I will kill you."

Butch rolled his eyes and waved her off dismissively, taking a drink. Not convinced, but too tired to argue, Buttercup walked out of the room. She waved at the soldiers that had practically collapsed about the old library. Buttercup felt sorry for them. Not many of them had actually been soldiers before the world went to hell. Most hadn't wanted to be in the army or any other military service, but because of Aterex many had joined the Resistance to save what little family they had left. Some had joined for the noble cause of retaking the Earth, others were forced. Buttercup never joined the Resistance; it wasn't because she didn't want to take down Aterex. She wanted to take him down even more than she had ever wanted to defeat Butch. She just didn't want to listen to anyone that wasn't Blossom.

Buttercup barely registered the fact that she had entered her room. Stumbling over to the bed, she collapsed into it, startling the other body in it. She curled against his back, wrapping her arm around his waist.

"Mmm…what Butch want?" Mitch Mitchelson's slurred voice asked, rolling onto his back. Buttercup just grunted, snuggling closer. "Mmhm…"

Buttercup told her half-awake co-leader what Butch said. "So he thinks that it may have been Bl-my sister…"

Mitch was silent and Buttercup briefly wondered if he had fallen back asleep when he answered. "It sounds like it," he said, his eyes still firmly closed as Buttercup finally pulled the blanket over herself. "But we have to also take into account the aliens-."

"Have you ever seen any of them have ice powers?" Buttercup cut in, frowning against his chest. "I want it to be her, Mitch. I want it to be-."

Mitch kissed the top of her head, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. "I know, BC, I know."

Buttercup sighed shakily, closing her eyes tightly. She never could say Blossom's name ever since she disappeared. Whenever she did, she felt her throat close tightly and the tears press against her eyes. Her sister's name had been the one thing that could cause her to cry. That was why she never said, only referred to her as "my sister" or "her". Because of this handicap, everyone around Buttercup stopped using Blossom's name as well. Buttercup didn't know if they did it out of pity or just because they themselves had trouble, but she didn't mind that they stopped using it. However, there were a few people in the Resistance who had the gall to use it towards her and make her say it. That's why she tried her best not to be present when it was Princess Morbucks getting updates from them.

Buttercup breathed in deeply, her mind going over what Butch had said. None of the aliens had ice powers. The creatures had almost all the powers that she, her sisters, and the ruffs had: flight, super strength, super speed, heightened senses, and heightened endurance. Besides that, though, Buttercup knew they could shape-shift and become intangible. She had once fought an alien that had telekinesis, but it had shortly been decapitated before it could do much damage. (She still argued with Mitch over whether it was she or him who sliced the head off.) From the stories of random Resistance soldiers, Buttercup knew that a lot of aliens had the ability to make psionic weapons like Boomer or else claws like Brat. (Buttercup felt herself frown in distaste as she thought the name of Bubbles' rip-off.) She knew that Boomer had once fought with an alien with terrakinesis, but from no one did she ever hear of an alien having cryokinesis.

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><p>The next morning, Buttercup found Butch's military unit still camped out in the main room. Rubbing her temples, the superpowered young woman sighed. There were just some things that she would never understand. Such was the strange need to hang around her headquarters longer than needed. She immediately took the coffee offered to her and she pushed her damp fringe out of her face.<p>

"So…" Mitch began, sipping his own coffee. "It's eleven and they're still here."

Buttercup considered this before sighing. "I did give him eight hours." She did the mental math, frowning. "And he arrived at three…so…his eight hours are basically up."

Mitch snorted, shaking his head. Butch always did this whenever he came back from the field. He always lounged around until Buttercup forcefully kicked him into the tunnels. If Mitch didn't know any better, he would have said that Butch hung out longer than needed because of Buttercup, but as it was Butch, Mitch knew that it couldn't be that. However, he couldn't help wondering if it was because of her. Mitch took a sip of coffee to hide the frown on his face. He and Buttercup may only be just friends with benefits now, but he still was protective of her. After all, there had been a time when they were more than friends. But that time was gone and now they were what they were. Mitch watched as Buttercup disappeared into the kitchen.

Buttercup shook her head as she looked down at the soldiers. Why was Butch always doing this? Even Boomer wasn't this bad and he was notorious for lazing about. Of course, when your "eldest" brother is your superior officer, you tend not to laze too much. Butch, apparently, failed to remember just how wicked Brick could be. Buttercup grabbed a large pasta pot and filled it to the brim with ice cold water. She walked out of the kitchen, balancing the pot on one arm as she sipped her coffee. Giving her mug to Mitch, Buttercup floated over the soldiers until she located their commander. The few soldiers around Butch were given quick nudges to wake them up, the more stubborn ones giving Buttercup a glare. Once they realized that she was carrying a very large pot, though, they compliantly moved out of her way.

Towering over the prone Butch, Buttercup felt a vindictive smile form on her face. Messing with Butch was one of the few pastimes that hadn't changed over the years (except for that beating-each-other-to-a-pulp-afterward part, though). Still grinning like a mad woman, Buttercup nudged (read: kicked) Butch in the side. "Wakey, wakey, Butch~!"

A very guttural sound came from the Rowdyruff and a few soldiers made rather undignified noises. Buttercup merely raised her eyebrow and looked back at Mitch, who just shook his head. Biting her lip to keep her laughter inside, the young woman turned back to her counterpart. He was sprawled on his back, the scrap of fabric that served as his blanket tangled about his legs, limbs thrown about all helter-skelter. She would never admit it aloud, but she slept exactly like that, one of the reasons that Mitch didn't often sleep with her.

"Seriously, Butch, wake up," Buttercup prompted, kicking him again and again receiving a sleepy snarl. "Okay then…"

Without further ado, Buttercup dumped the pot of freezing water on top of him.

It's safe to say that almost all of the humans in the room nearly ruptured their eardrums. Buttercup was one of them. She rubbed a knuckle into her ear, eyes screwed up in pain. "Holy _fuck_, man! That fucking _hurt_!"

Butch rubbed his arms rapidly, dark green sparks flashing off every now and again. "W-Well, i-it was y-y-your d-damn idea t-to dump ice cold _water_ on me!" he chattered, teeth clacking together. "Fuck!"

"Oh, stop being such a baby!" Buttercup snorted, looking down at him. Her eyes danced maliciously as the ruff wiped water off his face.

"Seriously? Was that _really_ necessary?" Butch looked highly offended and upset which something extremely out of character for him. As was the pout on his face.

"Your eight hours are up," Buttercup responded flatly, eyebrows raised. "That means leave."

Butch frowned as he got to his feet. He then proceeded to shake himself like a dog, splashing Buttercup effectively. He grinned cockily at her, arms crossed across his broad chest. The rebel leader's lips were pressed into a thin line, but her eyes were grudgingly amused. However, instead of commenting on his actions, she simply turned around, walking away. It was these reactions that confused Butch; when she didn't respond, when she didn't fight back. Sure, he knew she matured; admittedly even he had matured too, but his basic personality was still there. He always had to give his two cents and he knew that Buttercup was like that too. Or at least, she had been like that. Bending to grab his uniform jacket, Butch wondered what had changed that. He was sure that it wasn't because she was the leader of an organization, but then again, he wouldn't know would he? He may have been a commanding officer in the Resistance, but he still heavily relied on Brick to tell him what to do when it came to the whole leading-of-soldiers thing. (It wasn't often that Butch lead, anyway. He was usually in Brick's unit.)

"There anything I can pass onto the bossman for you?" Butch asked as he pulled on his jacket. Buttercup paused by the entrance to the kitchen and looked back.

"To Brick? Or Mojo? No, nothing," she responded, turning around, but she didn't go into the kitchen. "Give the Professor and…and Bubbles my love, though."

Butch looked surprised. Buttercup and Bubbles hadn't spoken to each since the green puff had run away. Hell, this was the first time Buttercup had even told him to give Bubbles her greetings. (And he was pretty damn sure that she never told Boomer either.) Deciding to check if he heard her correctly, he asked, "Say that again?"

"Get the fuck out so I can go on patrol!" she snapped, waving her pasta pot threateningly.

Putting his hands up in an 'I-give' fashion, Butch whistled for his unit to fall into line. The fifty-something soldiers immediately did so and they left through the basement doors. Mitch watched them, before going into the kitchen. The kitchen was narrow, but long, fitting not only a double sink and two stoves and ovens, but also a fridge and a stand up freezer. There were multiple cabinets and closets and a table shoved in the middle. Harry Pitt and Kim Yeong were sitting at the table, eyeing Buttercup uncertainly as she leaned against the counter. Mitch sighed, shaking his head.

"Y'know, they say sexual tension is never a good thing in the workplace," he commented nonchalantly, easily avoiding the thrown coffee cup. It lodged itself into the doorframe, cracking the wood. The brown-haired man placed their mugs down and crossed his arms. "What sector do you want?"

Buttercup shrugged before saying, "Sector thirty-three."

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><p>She was running. Running, running, running. From what? Her mind was blurry. Black…he wanted her, but why? Who wanted her? Gasping, she ran on. Last night…was it last night? She had helped them, the humans led by the boy, Butch, yes, his name was Butch. Her sister's counterpart. The dark her, Berserk (a shudder), had seen her though. But she was faster, much faster. Berserk wasn't a match, but she knew, she would tell him. Who? Aterex (another shudder). The creature that took her those years ago…how long ago? Too long, she had grown. Her hair billowed out behind her like a cape and if she wasn't so numb, she would have laughed out loud at the childishness of it all.<p>

Where was she? The tall buildings, shells of a once great city towered above her. She looked around, confusion on her face. The farther she went from Aterex's city, the less life there was. Sure, there was plant life and the occasional animal, but human life? No, there wasn't any. There had been humans living amongst the aliens, but here? The very outskirts of what once was Townsville city? There was nothing. Shuddering again at the lifelessness, she forged on; passing out of what once was city limits. The air she breathed was nice, delicious almost. She could taste the pollution, the smoke, but it was free air, air outside of the dark city. It was air outside of Aterex's palace.

Finally, she collapsed. She wasn't sure where she was or how far she had run, but she knew she was nowhere near the dark city. Gasping breathlessly, she clutched at the thin fabric covering her chest, the shirt dress she had been wearing when she escaped. How did she do that? She couldn't remember. Someone helped her. She didn't want to think though; she just wanted to sleep.

"So…tired…" she whispered, slumping against a sign. She winced as she accidentally pulled on her hair by moving. She looked up at the sky. It was a pleasant blue that just didn't seem to fit. "Where are you? Buttercup…Bubbles…"

Closing her eyes, her head fell back as she fell into exhausted sleep. It bumped lightly against the sign, a proud, but dingy, sign on which "Pokey Oaks Kindergarten" was written. The girl murmured in her sleep, fingers clutching the dirt under her. As if to soothe her of whatever she was dreaming, a pink spark danced across her knuckles, jumping along her arm, across her chest, and then down her other arm. And it was as if did soothe her, because Blossom didn't stir after that.

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><p>Despite her love for flying, Buttercup always patrolled on her motorcycle, Junkie. Junkie was old; hell, it was practically an antique. But Buttercup loved it and did as much maintenance on it as she could. (Of course, whatever she couldn't do, Mitch did, but Buttercup tended not to mention that part.) And though it was nearly an antique, Junkie run smooth as silk and as quiet as a mouse. This was all because of the Professor, in his attempt to keep his 'middle' daughter safe, but it was a great upgrade for Junkie and Buttercup wasn't complaining. At least it didn't thunder like Floyd's did, who just so happened to be accompanying her. Glancing into her side mirror, Buttercup watched as the older of the Floydjoydsen twins glanced about, taking note of their surroundings.<p>

Sector thirty-three was in fact the neighborhood around Pokey Oaks Kindergarten. It was usually a quiet area, with quite of few survivors that didn't join either side. Admittedly, most of those survivors did not enjoy the random patrols the rebels did, but they never did anything to provoke any fights. As it were, Buttercup found her patrol painfully boring. She had never liked doing patrols, even back when she was younger, but it was something that needed to be done. The Resistance certainly didn't do patrols. Then again, the Resistance had surveillance equipment and spies scattered all over. Her mouth twisted into an unhappy frown as Buttercup remembered an incident before the rebellion had really gotten off their feet.

"_We don't need your sissy patrols to know what's going on."_

The statement had been delivered with a condescending scowl and an uppity crimson leer. Maybe that was why Buttercup had an issue with Brick. Maybe it was because of his arrogance. Sure, she'd admit that he was hotter than hot, but he was a jerk and a stoic. He was fine, as long as he didn't open his mouth. (Which, thankfully, he usually didn't, but those stares; phew, they were enough to cripple any narcissist.) But Buttercup couldn't be focusing on the past now. One had to be a full alert when driving in the open. You never know when Aterex would randomly send out a patrol and if one found you, you had better be a damn good actor or you were screwed. Thankfully, the skies were clear, with no cloud cover at all, meaning that if an alien ship did pass over the area, they would be able to see it before it saw them.

Buttercup yawned widely, looking around lazily. The houses looked the same as they did years ago, maybe more desolate with overgrown lawns, but they looked pretty much the same. They were somewhere in what had been Pokey Oaks county and Buttercup felt nostalgia build in her stomach. How long ago was she flying over this area with her sisters on their way to kindergarten? How long ago was it when they were flying over just to visit Ms. Keane? It was too long ago. So long that it felt like another life. Buttercup tightened her grip on Junkie's handles. She would never admit it aloud, but she missed her sisters so much. Especially Blossom.

Shaking her head to clear, Buttercup caught sight of Pokey Oaks Kindergarten's building…and then she saw the sign. She frowned, eyebrows furrowing. Someone was lying against the board limply as if they had just collapsed. As the two rebels neared the school, Buttercup started seeing the features more clearly.

"Hey, is that a person?" Floyd called over the roar of his motorcycle's engine. Buttercup gave an affirmative and suddenly gunned towards the person. "Buttercup!"

The green puff skidded to a stop a few feet from the person and jumped from her bike, landing in a running stance. She was instantly by the girl's side, looking down at an oddly familiar face. The shape was like hers, maybe less stress strained and softer, but not girlish like Bubbles'. Long red hair spilled around her, making a sort of nest under her. She was wearing a pale colored shirt dress and her feet were encased in soft slippers. Her arms were bare for the most part and Buttercup's eyes kept being dragged to her face.

"Buttercup?" Floyd called softly, moving towards his leader. He stopped just behind her and looked at the redheaded girl in shock. "Is…is that-?"

Buttercup could only cover her mouth, tears threatening to fall from her eyes. She nodded as she reached out with a shaking hand. She gently touched the girl's cheek, inhaling sharply as the girl moved her head closer to the soft touch. Her eyelids twitched and then bleary pink orbs were looking at Buttercup. However, there was no recognition, except for a soft sigh of relief and the girl falling back to sleep.

"Butter…cup…" she mumbled wistfully and Buttercup felt a sob escape her throat.

"Blossom….oh, Blossom," she murmured, pulling the other girl into her arms. She clutched her to herself tightly, sobbing into the other woman's neck. "Blossom, Blossom, Blossom."

She sat like that for awhile, holding Blossom to herself as she sobbed on her sister. All the years of wondering, of hoping, of longing, of doubting, and of waiting, those emotions locked up tight inside came out with her tears. Gasping softly between her sobs, Buttercup knew that Floyd was watching her in shock. He had never seen her cry. Hell, the last time she really cried had been when Blossom had disappeared. Ironic, then, that she was crying her heart out in joy that she had found her sister. Finally pulling herself away, Buttercup rubbed her eyes quickly.

"We have to get her back to HQ," she said, standing up and picking Blossom up bridal style. She turned, eyes narrowing at Floyd. "You tell anyone what you just saw, I will _kill_ you."

Floyd nodded quickly, eyes wide in surprise. Eyes still narrowed, Buttercup turned her gaze to Junkie. Where would she put Blossom? She couldn't very well just tie her to herself and take off…could she?

Just minutes later, Buttercup was blasting down the street, a rope securely tying Blossom to her. She felt a little silly, what with her unconscious sister tied to her, but there was no way she was putting Blossom in the questionable sidecar, that was really a trailer, attached to Floyd's bike. The grin on her face was huge and Buttercup felt the sudden urge to whoop. Instead, she did a wheelie, causing Blossom's head to lull back and bump against her shoulder as she landed. Wincing a little, Buttercup glanced back at her sister, but she didn't wake up. Sighing in relief, she sent a grin at Floyd, who only shook his head in disbelief.

Floyd could not believe how elated Buttercup was. He himself was ecstatic, too. Blossom meant that they had a higher chance at winning. Combine her mind with Brick's and Mojo's? The three could probably come up with an awesome plan. Suddenly, Floyd felt his mood drop. But Brick and Blossom had despised each other and Mojo hadn't been on better terms. Sure, Blossom was more likely to cooperate with Mojo, but she probably wouldn't take what he said without a grain of salt and her working with Brick? Forget it. Floyd bit his lip. It _was_ great that Blossom was back…but would it do any difference?

Buttercup, however, wasn't thinking anything like that. She was more focused on how brilliant it was that Blossom was back. She was already planning everything that she would do with Blossom. Patrols, planning, raids. Maybe annoying the Resistance. Buttercup felt her grin growing. Sure, she knew that Blossom wouldn't do those things without commentary, but Buttercup knew that Blossom's noble nature would make her help. That she knew for a fact. Suddenly, she was frowning. Blossom had a noble nature. She'd want to help people with all she had. And that could lead her to joining the Resistance. Buttercup growled, grinding her teeth. How could she forget that?

"Wait," she said aloud, causing Floyd to pause. Upon seeing that she herself hadn't stopped, though, he quickly put his bike back into gear. Buttercup narrowed her eyes at the overgrown grasses and foliage creeping onto the street. _"Would Blossom join an organization that many of our old foes were in? Including her counterpart as one of the heads?"_

Her mind now more somber, Buttercup was quiet as she and Floyd drove down the roads towards the rundown library. The building was boxlike and had two floors and a basement. The kitchen had been an add-on sometime in the eighties. There were the typical leonine statues outside the entrance and there was an annex connected to it by the back. It was here where the two rebels stopped. Pulling out a garage door opener, Buttercup pressed the 'Open' button. What appeared to a wall was actually a door and they drove into what had been a storage room, but was now converted into their garage.

"Hey, help me untie Blossom," Buttercup called, highly tempted to break the rope. However, rope was a necessity that was uncommon nowadays, so she curbed her temptation.

Floyd hurried over to her side and began untying the two puffs. Blossom murmured against Buttercup's neck, snuggling closer to her sister. Said raven-haired woman felt her cheeks heat up at the action and quickly twisted around, grabbing the redhead. She narrowed her eyes at the Powerpuff leader, but picked her up again, shaking her head.

"You are _so_ lucky you're unconscious, Leader Girl," Buttercup remarked, cradling her sister close to her. She looked at her lost sister tenderly. "Where have you been, Blossom?"

"You're the first back." Buttercup's head snapped up as Harry walked into the room, drinking from what was most likely a very flat can of Coke. The boy paused when he noticed that Buttercup's arms were full. "Whoa. You found some…body…?"

Harry's voice trailed off as he got closer, noticing the features of the girl in Buttercup's arms. He looked flabbergasted. In fact he was so shocked that his arms had dropped and his soda can was emptying its contents onto the garage floor. Floyd busied himself with closing the garage door, clearly making it Buttercup's job to answer. Buttercup glared at him before refocusing on the still shell-shocked Harry. Sighing, she opened her mouth to respond when Floyd squeaked and two more motorcycles roared into the garage door.

"Locking us out, Floyd?" Mitch called playfully, jumping off his bike. He noticed Buttercup and held up a hand in greeting. "Scavenged some stuff from a Home Depot in sector twenty-five. Mostly nails and stuff, but…"

"It'll be useful," Buttercup finished, shifting the still unconscious Blossom. It appeared as if Blossom didn't really notice any of the talking. Buttercup then remembered that Blossom had been a surprisingly deep sleeper…and yet the redhead had been able to wake up immediately if the Hotline went off. Shaking her head at her sister's sleeping ability, she looked up when she heard Mitch walk over.

"Wait…is that…?" Mitch paused, looking at Buttercup's face. "It's Blossom…isn't it?"

Buttercup nodded, clutching her sister tightly to herself. This action caused Blossom to murmur in her sleep and Buttercup released her grip a tiny bit. Again, the tears entered Buttercup's eyes, but she held them back. There was no way she was going to allow anyone to see her cry like she did. She glared at Floyd as she remembered her little episode when she found Blossom. Said Floydjoydsen twin flinched and hid behind Harry.

"Yes, it is Blossom," Buttercup announced to the garage. Harry's eyes, which had already been wide, bulged and Carlos, a man maybe five years older than Buttercup and who had been found by them five years ago, looked awed. Mitch looked at the red haired girl in Buttercup's arms in thought and then back at the green puff holding her.

"We're going to have to tell the Resistance," he said at long last and a chill filled the garage.

Buttercup scowled, glaring at the wall behind Harry. Without a word, she stomped past them all, heading to the hallway. She knew she had to tell the Resistance. She also knew she was acting childishly. But the thought of telling the Resistance…she absolutely knew that Brick would have Blossom dragged to their headquarters to be interrogated. Buttercup growled, hearing Mitch's footsteps behind her.

"I know, Mitch!" she snapped before he could say anything. "I know we have to tell the Resistance! But…But not yet…not yet…" She slowed and stopped, turning to him with watery green eyes. Her look was pleading, begging, so not Buttercup like that Mitch stopped in shock, his dark, chocolate brown eyes widening. "I don't want to share Blossom yet…"

"BC…" Mitch sighed, rubbing his neck. "All right, all right," he grumbled, frowning at his friend. "But we _have_ to tell them sooner or later."

Buttercup's expression brightened and she grinned widely. "Don't worry, _dad_. I'll tell 'em when I'm good and ready!"

"'Never' is not a choice here."

"I don't know where you'd get such an idea like that."


	3. Home?

**Storm**

_Trivia: The Narcassians come from the planet Narcassia. Narcassia comes from Narcissus, who was a very vain young man from Greek mythology and who scorned love. Aphrodite cursed him to fall in love with his reflection and he became the narcissus flower after he died. Fluffy the hair bunny is from the episode "The Mane Event". _

The ending seems rushed to me…but hopefully it isn't too bad! ;A;

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 2: Home?<strong>

She was warm on a somewhat stiff bed. It was nice, like Buttercup's bed. Bubbles' was always very soft, like sleeping on a cloud, and Buttercup's was on the stiffer side. Blossom's had always been in between and as she blinked awake, Blossom felt oddly rested. Her mind was at ease and she felt an odd sense of peace overcome her. She frowned. What was this feeling? It…wasn't like the strange, twisted numb feeling at…wherever she had been. It was…more positive, more familiar. Eyes falling closed, Blossom smiled as she realized what she felt.

She felt safe.

Her eyes snapped open and she bolted up, looking around wildly. Safe? How could she feel safe? An image of a woman with black hair and striking green eyes invaded her mind and Blossom blinked rapidly. That woman…yes, she would know that face…it had matured, aged, but it was still recognizable. It was still her sister. Blossom felt tears enter her eyes. How long was it since she saw her sisters? It felt like a lifetime ago. It was… Blossom frowned, suddenly realizing she didn't know how long ago she was captured. She knew she had aged, that was quite clear, but how much she had aged she wasn't sure.

Eyes closed tightly, Blossom dropped her head into her hands, trying to recall anything from her time captured. Where had she been? Fuzzy memories just buzzed beyond her reach and images of places and people she should recognize danced like ghosts just inches from her fingertips. The sound of footsteps caught her attention and her head snapped up as an older woman walked into the room.

"Oh! I see you're awake!" she said, smiling warmly. The woman was short, at least as far as Blossom could tell, and had warm gray hair tied up in a bun. She was wearing a light pink cardigan over a white shirt and dark gray slacks. She was holding an old quilt in her arms and she was looking at Blossom with warmth that she hadn't seen in years. "How are you, Blossom dear?"

"I…ve…bee…bet'r…" Blossom tried to say, but her throat was raw and it came out as a croak. She blinked away the tears of pain that entered her eyes and murmured gratefully as the woman poured her a glass of water.

Turning, the woman brought the Powerpuff leader the cup. "I'm Mrs. Cavadini. We've all been worried about you, dear."

Blossom looked up at her after taking multiple gulps of water. "Where…am I?" she asked, but before Mrs. Cavadini could answer, another person walked through the door.

For some reason, Blossom felt her breath catch in her throat. The last time she had seen her, she had been twelve, wearing a green shirt and jean shorts and her hair had been in a bob. She could still see that little girl in the woman before her and she supposed that was one of the reasons why she was crying…because she hadn't been there as Buttercup grew up. Buttercup's hair was now shoulder length and wavy and she had a womanly figure that Blossom shouldn't have been surprised about. They _were_ the perfect girls, after all. Buttercup wore a dark green T-shirt and blue jeans tucked inside beat-up combat boots. So typical Buttercup.

"Blossom…" Buttercup murmured, looking at her sister with wide eyes. She took a cautious step forward and then she was actually flying at her sister. A gasp escaped Blossom as the full weight of Buttercup barreled into her. "Blossom! Oh my God Blossom!"

"B-Buttercup…h-hey…" the redhead gasped, tears now freely falling. She sniffled and returned the bear hug, whimpering. "Oh God, Buttercup!" she sobbed, clinging tightly to her sister.

"Bloss, do you know how much we missed you?" Buttercup asked in her sister's hair, trembling slightly. "Do you…do you know _hard_ it was-?"

Blossom cut her off, "I can only imagine." And that's really all she could do. Imagine. She had never been in that situation. How does one act when one's leader is taken? That was one of the most important military strategies. Take out the leader and the army falls. But she knew, just knew, that Buttercup had managed to survive…but Bubbles…

"Buttercup," Blossom said, finally releasing her green-eyed sister. "Where are we? And where's Bubbles?"

Buttercup paused and shared a look with Mrs. Cavadini that did not go unnoticed by Blossom. Good to see her observation skills were still up to par. Hesitantly, Buttercup answered her, "You're in the Rebel headquarters…basically Pokey Oaks Library and as for Bubbles…um…"

Blossom looked at Buttercup and heard her say bitterly, "She's in the Resistance."

Frowning, Blossom asked, "What's the Resistance?"

Silence followed her statement and she looked between the other women in the room, confused by their looks. They looked shocked and bewildered for some reason. Now worried as well as confused, Blossom frowned more deeply. Had she said something wrong? Buttercup herself just said that Bubbles was in the Resistance, so it couldn't be _that_ bad…could it? Looking between the two, Blossom became feeling a little irritated. Why weren't they answering?

"Did I say something wrong?" Blossom asked coolly and Buttercup forgot that Blossom could be impatient at times. Especially when she was asking a question that had a simple answer.

"How do you know about the Resistance?" Buttercup asked instead, crossing her arms. She was bringing out the rebel leader persona now and was not surprised that Blossom looked perfectly fine. Hey, when your counterpart's Brick and all… However, while Blossom's reaction to her mask was no surprise, her knowledge of the Resistance was.

Blossom suddenly appeared bewildered and tilted her head at Buttercup. "You just said that Bubbles was in the Resistance," she said slowly.

Buttercup looked at her sister with a shocked expression. Had she spoken aloud? Turning to Mrs. Cavadini, Buttercup found the older woman looking very confused. That was not the reaction Buttercup was expecting. She returned her gaze to her sister, studying her. Well, if she hadn't spoken aloud…then that would mean-.

"Oh!" Blossom's gasp interrupted Buttercup's thoughts and the green puff refocused back on her. The red haired puff was massaging her forehead with her knuckles, eyebrows furrowed in thought. "Right…right. I developed a new power," she murmured. "No…_two_ powers…but the second…"

"Is an empathy link to me and Bubbles," Buttercup finished, eyes wide. "The other power is…it's…you can read minds?"

Blossom nodded, looking up at Buttercup. "Yes. Telepathy. He was even more afraid of me after that. He needed to control me more…"

"Who did, dear?" Mrs. Cavadini asked, gently sitting on the edge of the bed.

The look in Blossom's eyes was something Buttercup never saw before on her face. Those rosy eyes looked blank and glassy, like she had lost all hope. She was trembling slightly and as Buttercup took her hand, she could feel the clamminess of Blossom's palm. The emotion in Blossom's eyes was not one that should be there. Not in her proud sister. Buttercup felt her heart contract painfully. Blossom was afraid. And if Blossom was afraid, Buttercup had no idea how she would react to it.

"Who took you, Blossom?" Buttercup asked gently. She was suddenly breathless as a wave of emotions that were definitely not hers hit her. Fear, anger, reluctance, and panic flooded her senses and Buttercup was panting as the tidal wave of feeling left.

"Sorry," Blossom murmured, feeling Buttercup's reassurance. "I…that…" She sighed, closing her eyes. She would not be afraid. She was the leader of the Powerpuff Girls. She was not afraid of some alien. So why couldn't she say his name? "It was…it was A-Aterex."

At that, Blossom's eyes suddenly widened and she grabbed her head as memories flooded her mind. They weren't clear or whole, but the bits and pieces were enough to leave her gasping.

"_The drug metabolized already!"_

"_Already? It's been barely two months!" _

"_Give her more!"_

"_Aren't you my pretty little pet?"_

"NO!"

"Blossom!" Buttercup gasped, again left breathless from Blossom's emotions. Said girl was curled into a ball, holding her head. She kept murmuring 'no' and trembling uncontrollably. Buttercup hovered over Blossom quite literally, looking down at her sister unsurely. It was one thing to reassure another rebel. It was an entirely different thing when the one shaking in fear was once her beloved leader. "Blossom…it's okay. He can't get you."

"_That's good, my pet…_

"_You'll be mine! Mark her, slave!_

"_There's my pet~. How pretty you are._

"_Haha! Your punks can't stand up to her!"_

Buttercup was now hugging her. "Blossom, can you hear me? He can't get you! You're _safe_!"

It was as if Buttercup said a magic spell. Blossom stopped trembling and she slowly removed her hands from her head. She looked up at Buttercup with an unsure look. Her sister gave her a confused look back, but a small smirk pulled up Buttercup's mouth as she said, "I'd never thought _I'd_ be the one comforting you, Leader Girl."

Immediately, Blossom flushed and she pushed Buttercup away. "I-I'm fine!" she snapped, though she knew by the amusement she could feel from Buttercup that her raven-haired sister knew she was just saying that. Saying Aterex's name had caused her to revert to the fetal position. Blossom's bottom lip quivered. She couldn't lead her sisters if she couldn't even say the enemy's name.

"Weak…" she mumbled and Buttercup looked at her in confusion.

"What?"

Blossom's head shot up, her eyes wide. "N-Nothing. S-So, w-what is the Resistance?" she asked, returning the conversation back to its original topic. "And why is Bubbles there?" A pointed look was added to the question and Buttercup sighed, pushing her hair out of her eyes.

"The Resistance is an organization set up by your father and assorted others to take down Aterex," Mrs. Cavadini explained, smiling softly. "Bubbles…ah." She looked at Buttercup and the green puff sighed again.

"I…didn't join the Resistance because I refused to listen to anyone that wasn't you," Buttercup said, not missing the look on Blossom's face. It was like a cross between surprise and indulgence. "A-Anyway! I…I ran away from the Resistance after…saying some…_harsh_ things to Bubbles." Here Buttercup bit her lip, shaking her head. "I should have never done that, but…I…"

Blossom gently reached out, taking Buttercup's hand. She looked at her sister sympathetically. It was Blossom's fault that everything degraded so much. If she hadn't let herself get caught by Aterex…

"I'm sorry," murmured Blossom, causing her sister to look at her in confusion.

"Why?" the green puff asked. "You didn't do anything."

Blossom shook her head, trying to keep the tears back. "No. It's my fault! If I hadn't…If I hadn't let Aterex sneak up on me, if I hadn't gotten so close to the ship, the Narcassians wouldn't have gotten me!"

Her outburst was followed by silence and Buttercup scowled. She'd even ignore the fact that Blossom knew the proper name for the aliens. (Of course she knew the proper name. That shouldn't surprise her.) But it was not Blossom's fault. Opening her mouth to shout at her sister, Buttercup froze as Mrs. Cavadini cleared her throat. Dark blue eyes told Buttercup to behave and the old woman stood, gently touching Blossom's arm.

"Let's get you cleaned up, dear," she said, smiling in her matronly way. "I'm sure we have some clothes that may fit you lying around."

It was clear what Mrs. Cavadini was doing and Buttercup frowned as she landed lightly next to her. She glared as the old librarian helped Blossom out of bed. Clutching the woman, Blossom stood unsteadily, looking at Buttercup sadly. She made her mad. She didn't need the empathy link to know that.

Mrs. Cavadini took Blossom's hand and led her out of the room. Buttercup didn't follow, but Blossom knew her sister was upset. The mix of feelings she was getting from her made it clear, but what could Blossom do? It was her fault. She had been careless. If she hadn't been careless, maybe none of this would have happened. Shaking her head, Blossom tightened her grip on Mrs. Cavadini's hand. She was lead into a room that looked like a locker room. Glancing around, Blossom almost didn't notice when Mrs. Cavadini led her into a smaller room.

The room was a little square-like room with green tile around the tub with olive painted walls elsewhere. There was a sink by the door and toilet in the corner with a stool shoved under the sink. Hanging from the ceiling were two uncovered light bulbs that cast a surprisingly clear light on the room. Above the tub was a more yellowish light.

"Why does the library have a locker room? And a bathtub?" Blossom asked, sitting down on the stool.

"I'm not sure myself actually," Mrs. Cavadini remarked, rolling up her sleeves. She turned on the hot water and let the tub fill.

Blossom watched the woman, playing with her near ankle length hair. "Mrs. Cavadini…how long have I been gone?"

The elder woman paused in what she was doing and turned to look at Blossom. "You've been gone eight years, dear. You didn't know?"

Blossom's mouth went dry. "It…was hard to keep track of time…" she murmured.

Eight years. She had been captured for eight years. More dizzying memories inundated her mind, but they were only clips. Nothing solid, nothing worth mentioning. But she had been gone for eight years. No wonder Buttercup had been so happy to see her. Nearly a decade lost. Blossom held her head. She couldn't believe it. How could she have allowed this to happen?

"_You're weak."_

Blossom bit her lip. A memory, not of Aterex or her time taken, but of before that, from when she was about nine. It was a memory of a battle between herself and Brick. It had been one of their bloodier fights, each being in a foul mood before it had taken place. He had plowed her into the ground within minutes and floated above her, scowling down. He had said those words with contempt. It wasn't her fault that Buttercup had accidentally ruined her school project, leaving her unfocused. Blossom would have bet that Butch had tried again to usurp Brick's position and that's what had caused Brick's mood. (That year Butch had an odd fantasy that he could lead the Rowdyruffs. Brick had not been very happy at all that year.)

"_He was right…"_ Blossom thought weakly, not noticing Mrs. Cavadini walking towards her. _"I am weak…"_

Blossom started when Mrs. Cavadini placed a hand on her shoulder. The older woman looked at her in concern before smiling.

"Is everything all right?" she asked and Blossom nodded with some reluctance. Mrs. Cavadini narrowed her eyes, knowing that Blossom was lying, but she didn't press the girl. Instead, she said, "Would you like me to cut your hair?"

"Oh, yes, please." Blossom nodded, blushing faintly as Mrs. Cavadini gently touched her hair.

"Well, let's get you washed first, okay?" The librarian gently pulled Blossom to her feet and helped the girl undress.

As Blossom stepped into the tub, Mrs. Cavadini held her hair for her, her arms pilled with the auburn locks. Blossom sat down in the lukewarm water, pulling her knees to her chest. She froze when Mrs. Cavadini covered her eyes, not expecting the action. Vague memories suddenly flooded her mind, but Blossom mentally shook her head. She was safe here. She shivered when water was dumped over her head, dampening her long hair. Blossom closed her eyes and relaxed as Mrs. Cavadini washed it, massaging the shampoo into the locks.

Letting her mind wander, Blossom tried to remember her time in the palace, but it was still very blurry and she convulsed abruptly, scaring Mrs. Cavadini. She murmured an apology and received a reassurance before the older woman continued working on Blossom's hair. Remembering her time captured was out, not if Blossom wanted another seizure. Instead, she decided to puzzle over what Buttercup could possibly have said to keep Bubbles and her from talking for eight years. (Buttercup may not have said it, but Blossom knew that neither had spoken to each other. You could call it sister intuition.) Whatever her green sister could have said would have had to be extremely harsh, harsher than normal. A leaden weight seemed to fill her heart and Blossom let out a melancholy sigh.

She was sure it had been about her.

"Close your eyes, dear," Mrs. Cavadini said and Blossom just had time to close them before water was dumped on her. This happened a few more times until Mrs. Cavadini was satisfied that that shampoo was out of her hair. She then started with the conditioner.

What could've Buttercup have said? Blossom frowned into her arms, looking at the mint green tiled walls unhappily. It was probably something about her not returning. Biting her lip in thought, Blossom tightened her grip on her knees. That was most likely it. Her sister most likely said that she was never coming back. But Bubbles wasn't one to hold a grudge. So why would…? Blossom squeezed her eyes shut before Mrs. Cavadini dumped a bucket of water on her.

"Would you like me to wash your back?" Mrs. Cavadini asked kindly and Blossom felt like a small child again. She was twenty years old! But she murmured her consent and accepted the sponge handed to her.

It was as she was washing her arms that Mrs. Cavadini gasped. Blossom's hair was thrown over her shoulder and she paused in her washing to turn around. "Is something wrong?"

Mrs. Cavadini looked up at her, blue eyes wide. "Blossom," she murmured in a hushed voice. "What happened to your back?"

Bewildered, Blossom attempted to look at her back in vain. "I don't-." Her eyes widened as another memory hit her.

"_Mark her, slave!"_

She gasped, clutching her chest. Mrs. Cavadini gripped her shoulders looking anxious. "Blossom? Blossom!"

_She was in a dark room. Her vision was so blurry. Her head felt heavy and fuzzy, as if cotton balls were stuffed inside. She heard _his_ voice and whimpered. He was telling someone to mark her…something about being his. She wasn't sure. It was so hard to focus. But she knew that she wasn't going to be his. No. She would never allow that. Someone was whispering to her, muttering reassurances. Her mind, once fuzzy, flashed red. Red. Red, red, red, red, red. The whispering voice gasped quietly and more reassurances came. Red. Redredredredredredred._

_Red…eyes?_

Mrs. Cavadini held Blossom's shoulders as the girl shook. She was holding her head, her fingers digging into her scalp as the memory left her breathless. Those marks on her back meant something…something special. Why did she see red randomly as well? What did red symbolize? Unwittingly, a memory of a short, cap-wearing boy appeared in her mind and Blossom furiously shook her head. Red didn't always have to symbolize _him_, did it? This time the memory was of a transvestite lobster demon and Blossom made a strangled noise.

"_Really, mind? Really?"_ she thought darkly, slowly removing her hands from her hair. "I…was marked," she said, moving a hand over her shoulder to try and touch it. "I…don't remember what it means though…"

She sounded frustrated and Mrs. Cavadini looked at the girl in front of her with wise eyes. This girl had experienced so much in her life. In actuality the girl was only fifteen, though she was born at five years of age. But even still, Blossom had witnessed and lived through so many things that a normal person couldn't handle. So many things she had experienced and had not gone insane. Mrs. Cavadini knew that she wouldn't have been able to remain sane after so much. How did this girl, this proud girl, remain sane after so much? She had had her biggest fear thrown in her face, an evil monkey take advantage of her, had her life nearly taken by a boy who could be her twin.

And now that proud girl was trying to piece together an experience that had trumped all of those.

"Post traumatic stress disorder." Mrs. Cavadini jumped as Blossom voiced what the librarian had been thinking. "That…fits. Yes. Amnesia can set in when someone doesn't want to remember a traumatic experience."

"You are quite smart, Blossom," Mrs. Cavadini remarked, smiling indulgently as she continued washing the young woman's back. They remained quiet for a few moments and Blossom was just starting to wash her legs, frowning at their hairlessness, when Mrs. Cavadini spoke again. "Are you planning on joining the Resistance?"

Blossom paused in her washing, biting her lip in indecision. Her nature told her to join, but she knew Buttercup would want her to stay and be a rebel. She knew the reason behind Buttercup's refusal to join the Resistance and that struck Blossom. Sighing softly, Blossom continued her washing, still thinking over the question.

"I…don't know," she answered finally, gripping the sponge tightly. "If…If I do join, I'm sure I can shoot up through the ranks and get a high enough position so that Buttercup might want to join…"

Mrs. Cavadini frowned and thought darkly, _"Not with Brick and Mojo as head officers."_

"What?" Blossom gasped, startling the elder woman as she whipped around. "Brick and Mojo are part of the Resistance?" Her pink eyes were wide and she stared down at the soapy water in shock. "I would have thought…but…they're…_head_ officers?"

Mrs. Cavadini sighed, ringing out her sponge and filling a cup with water. "Yes…many villains joined the Resistance if you can believe it," she answered, urging Blossom to turn around. "Mojo, the Rowdyruff Boys, and Princess Morbucks are just a few."

Dropping her head into her hands, Blossom bit back a groan. There was no way Brick would just let her join the Resistance. If he was anything like her, he'd give her the fifth degree and even then he still wouldn't let her in. She'd be little better than a civilian, not even. She grumbled darkly and ran her fingers through her hair. There was absolutely no way she would join then. A part of Blossom felt upset at that aspect and another part praised her on her sense of self-preservation. After all, how did she know that Brick wouldn't just attack first and ask questions later? And if Blossom's power had grown tremendously in that time wherever she had been…then Brick's… Blossom shuddered helplessly, flashing back the time when he was resurrected.

There was so much that Blossom didn't know about the lives of her loved ones. She thought about this as Mrs. Cavadini helped her get out of the tub and dried off. How much had the changed? And how would they react to her reappearance? Clutching a large dark brown towel around herself, Blossom suddenly remembered the markings on her back (and the color red) and looked towards the matronly woman digging through the cupboard about the toilet. Sitting on the stool, Blossom was shorter than Mrs. Cavadini (who only reached maybe five-two) and she actually had to look up to voice her plea.

"Mrs. Cavadini…could you not tell Buttercup about the marks on my back?" she asked and Mrs. Cavadini frowned, turning her head. She pulled scissors, a comb, and a hairbrush out of the cabinet and sighed softly.

"Of course, dear. If that's what you want," she responded, walking around behind her.

As Mrs. Cavadini brushed her hair in rhythmic strokes, Blossom flashed back to the times when Bubbles would do the same thing. Eyes fluttering closed, she let her mind wander back to those times, pretending that Mrs. Cavadini's strokes were Bubbles'. It was pleasant, pretending for a moment that everything was normal, that she was twelve again and she was in her room and her "little" sister was brushing her hair. The dull throb in her chest reminded her that if she hadn't been so careless, then that would be a reality, but as she had been careless. Blossom gritted her teeth, angry with herself as she remembered how often she reprimanded Buttercup for being reckless.

It took a while for Mrs. Cavadini to brush and comb all of Blossom's hair. That whole time Blossom sat and beat herself up and forced herself to remember. But she couldn't remember much besides the faint clips she had already remembered. And for some reason, her mind kept traipsing back to the marks on her back. She really wanted to know what they meant and what the color red had to do with them. Blossom clutched the towel tighter, eyes fluttering open as soft footsteps came into the room. She smiled hesitantly at Buttercup who dumped some clothes in the sink.

"Okay, I can't guarantee anything will really fit, seeing as I have _no_ idea what size you are," Buttercup said, crossing her arms, "but I didn't risk grabbing a bra." Blossom opened her mouth, blushing furiously, to complain, but Buttercup cut her off. "I _did_ get you a camisole, though. Hopefully that'll fit okay."

Blossom made a noise in her throat, a cross somewhere between consent and indignation, and glared at her sister. She really didn't want to delve into what Buttercup may be implying with that and glanced quickly at the clothes. Hopefully the green puff had also grabbed underwear for her. Buttercup only smirked in response, moving her attention to Mrs. Cavadini who was now wielding the scissors.

"What're you doing with those?" Buttercup asked, her voice hushed in terror. By her tone, one would think that Mrs. Cavadini was threatening to slice Blossom's throat (not that it would work, but I digress).

Mrs. Cavadini gave her a strange look, which was mirrored on Blossom's face. The librarian looked curiously at the scissors and then back up at Buttercup before answering slowly, "I'm going to cut Blossom's hair, Buttercup…"

"No-no-no-no, Blossom has to have long hair." Buttercup uncrossed her arms, moving closer. She couldn't see Blossom without the long locks she had ever since they were created. In fact, Blossom herself never had any other kind of style. It was always long.

Blossom groaned, somewhat surprised (and flattered) about Buttercup's earnestness. She never realized that Buttercup liked her long hair. She had supposed that the green Powerpuff wouldn't have cared about that. After all, Buttercup's hair was down to her shoulders now, instead of the bob she had for most of their childhood. Shaking her head, Blossom smiled indulgently at her sister.

"It's _too_ long, Buttercup," she said softly, shifting on the stool. "It reaches down to my ankles!" The look of horror was still on Buttercup's face and Blossom bit her lip to keep her laughter in. "I _was_ going ask Mrs. Cavadini to only cut it to waist length, anyway. I'm used to that length."

Buttercup muttered something about Blossom having near ankle length hair when they were five, but nodded finally, conceding to the waist-length proposal. She stuffed her hands into her pockets, feeling a silky material in one. Frowning in confusion and then resisting the urge to slap herself, Buttercup pulled on the material. It was a dark red color, somewhat faded and a little torn, but it had the recognizable shape of that of a thick ribbon. She rubbed the material between her fingers, before holding it out to Blossom. The redhead blinked in confusion and slowly reached out to take it, keeping the towel wrapped firmly around her.

As Buttercup dropped the ribbon into her outstretched palm, Blossom felt a small burst of satisfaction from her sister. The ribbon, as she gazed at it with a feeling of remembrance, was exactly like the ones she used to wear. Rubbing the material softly, Blossom felt a small warm feeling in her stomach. It _was_ one of her ribbons. Blinking in an attempt to keep the tears in, Blossom sniffled softly, smiling at the ribbon as if it were an old friend she hadn't seen in a while. She chuckled softly at the analogy. What other surprises did Buttercup have in store for her?

"Thanks, Buttercup," Blossom said…only to realize a second later she hadn't spoken aloud.

"No prob," Buttercup responded and Blossom stared wide-eyed at her as Mrs. Cavadini stopped in her cutting.

"Come again?" she asked, frowning at the rebel leader. Buttercup looked at them in confusion.

"What? What I say?"

Blossom frowned, brow furrowing. "I forgot. My telepathy not only allows me to read minds, but also allows me to project my thoughts into someone else's mind," she recalled, rubbing her lips thoughtfully. "If I remember correctly, I can project my thoughts into a limit of two people's minds simultaneously. And that's the limit of my power."

Buttercup cocked her head, looking at her sister. "Ah, well, y'know ol' Bricky boy will think you can control minds, too. If, y'know, we tell the Resistance about you and all…"

Giggling at the nickname for her counterpart, Blossom smiled at her sister in an incredulous way. "You have to tell the Resistance, Buttercup. You can't keep my existence a secret."

"Why not?" Buttercup asked, fighting the pout she knew was threatening to appear on her face. The smile on Blossom's face made her grumble in defeat. "I know, I know."

"Sooner or later, someone will slip up and say something," Blossom reasoned. "Not to mention if one of the Resistance visits for some reason."

All was quiet except for the snipping of the scissors. Buttercup was now full on pouting, knowing that Blossom was right. She just didn't want to tell the Resistance, not only for the reason she told Mitch, but also because she wanted to protect Blossom. After eight years, Blossom shows up and claims that she can't remember where she's been? Oh, yes, that'll go down well with Brick. See, it wasn't Mojo one had to please at the Resistance, it was Brick and Buttercup knew that Brick was as paranoid as Blossom was. She didn't want Blossom being questioned about where she had been and her trustworthiness. It was one thing she was certain that Brick would do. The green puff started when she noticed Blossom looking at her with a curious expression.

"…I should be ripping you a new one about trusting me so quickly, shouldn't I?" she remarked, looking amused. "I really should, but…" There was a soft smile that Buttercup knew meant that Blossom wasn't going to do anything. "But I'll let it slide because I'm happy that you do trust me despite all that's happened."

"Hey, those Resistance bastards are suspicious enough for both teams," Buttercup said, shrugging. "Why should I be suspicious of someone who would fight tooth and nail if anyone tried to control her?"

Blossom smiled warmly at her sister and Mrs. Cavadini announced that she was finished. Placing the scissors down, the older woman put her hands on her hips, looking down at the large pile of hair at her feet. The look on her face was one of utter perplexity. Buttercup also dropped her gaze down to the pile of auburn locks and raised an eyebrow. Noticing the look of amazement on her sister's face, Blossom followed her gaze and winced a little bit. There was probably a reason why her hair had been allowed to grow to such a length.

"So…what are we going to do with nearly three feet of hair?" Buttercup asked finally, still looking at the pile of hair. "Burn it?"

"Unless you're going to make Fluffy the hair bunny," Blossom remarked, giving her sister a look. Buttercup snorted in response, grinning widely.

"Or a racetrack?" she said, receiving an annoyed look from the redhead. "Okay, burning it is."

After a few moments dillydallying, Buttercup finally left the room, grumbling about Blossom's hair which said redhead found highly amusing. Hadn't the green puff just been complaining a moment ago about Blossom's hair being cut? As Mrs. Cavadini closed the door, Blossom stood, still holding the towel around her. She pawed through the clothes Buttercup brought, frowning at the selections. Of the clothes there, there was a red plaid button down shirt, a white camisole, some jeans, a belt, a pair of underwear, and some socks. A sigh escaping her mouth, Blossom raised an eyebrow at the lack of footwear. She had only been wearing thin silken slippers when she escaped, which weren't of much use outside of the house. Thankfully, her body was highly durable so the soles of her feet were fine, but even still. Just socks?

Shaking her head, Blossom proceeded to get dressed, finally allowing the towel to drop. For some reason, she felt self-conscious, even though Mrs. Cavadini had just helped bathe her, and tried to ignore the other woman. Thankfully, she was looking the other way and Blossom let out a small sigh of relief. Grabbing the underwear and camisole, she pulled the two articles of clothing on. She dressed quickly and frowned down at the pants she was wearing. They were a little too big and Blossom was impressed by Buttercup's foresight at grabbing the belt. She still wondered why she only had socks though.

"Would you like me to tie your hair up?" Mrs. Cavadini beckoned for the pink puff to sit and, doing so, Blossom felt herself relax as the deft hands began brushing her hair.

_Knock, knock._

The door began opening and Buttercup popped her head in. "Everyone decent?" she asked as she came in. This received a raised eyebrow from Blossom as Mrs. Cavadini just chuckled and shook her head.

A few moments later, Mrs. Cavadini finished ("There") and Buttercup was dragging Blossom out of the bathroom and down the hall. Blinking in confusion at how she got into this predicament, Blossom looked around at the hall, which she noticed was becoming a little wider and the tiled floor suddenly gave way to industrial carpeting. She attempted to question where they were going, but Buttercup just shushed her, refusing to answer any pestering. Her sister continued to drag her around until they reached what had to the ground floor for the adult section of the library. In the middle of the room, where the information desk would have been, tables had been pushed together and Blossom stared, trying to comprehend what she was looking at. It looked like some kind of feast or party and she turned to her sister, in an attempt to understand the sight.

"Surprise?" Buttercup said when she noticed Blossom's gaze. "Well, y'know. It's a welcome back party…I guess…"

Shaking her head, Blossom looked at the table with a small smile on her face. There were maybe thirty people present and there were faces that she's recognized. There was Mitch and Harry and the Floydjoydsen twins and Kim and a few other people she recognized. And then there were others she wasn't quite sure about, but Blossom supposed that Buttercup would introduce her. Looking at their faces, she noticed that none, for some reason, showed fear. A knot formed in her stomach and Blossom felt tears prick her eyes yet again.

"You…didn't have to…" she mumbled, rubbing her eyes and squeezing Buttercup's hand.

"I guess I didn't have to," Buttercup conceded leading her closer. She turned to Blossom and smiled at her in that soft way that she reserved only for her sisters and children. "I wanted to."

As they stopped in front of the table, a series of shouts and gasps aroused. Many rushed forward to Blossom, giving her hugs and pats on the back. Kim even came and, taking her hand from Buttercup's, lead her to a seat at the head of the table. Blossom felt her cheeks warming as she sat and, watching the others seat themselves, felt the familiar warmth in her chest. Gently clutching the fabric above her heart, Blossom smiled at the people gathered. She knew this feeling, knew it well. It was the feeling that the Professor and her sisters had brought many times before. The warm feeling made her feel at home.

And that's exactly where she was.

She was finally home.


	4. Know Her Place

**Storm**

_Trivia: Writing Ace's accent is a _bitch_. _

_Note: Aerokinesis is the scientific(?) name for the ability to control air and wind. Also, I can't write battle sequences to save my life. Hopefully it isn't too bad._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 3: Know Her Place<strong>

It had been three weeks since Buttercup had found Blossom and the redhead was doing her best to adapt to her new lifestyle. It was somewhat difficult to do so, as her mind was still set some eight years previous, though she _knew_ that they all had aged. She tried her best not boss Buttercup around and then there was the fact of having to get to know people she had previously known very well. Sure, there were people she didn't know, like Jocey, a black girl who had been friends with Buttercup before the invasion and had become very close over the past eight years, but many she had known and it felt strange that she had to get to know them all over again. It was hard trying to find a place in an already established social hierarchy. Where did Blossom stand? She had been the leader, but now, after having reappeared after eight years, what was her place?

Buttercup was the leader of the Rebels and Mitch was her co-captain. Harry was the communications officer. Floyd and Lloyd were mainly patrol, Kim was mainly a scavenger, Jocey was artillery. Their places were clear and everyone else just fell into those that needed filling. Blossom had no such place. For the most part of the three weeks, she would help out random people with their jobs, though she was usually found reading books and catching up on the education she had missed. By the end of the third week, she had pretty much read all the books in the library, which, as she had learned from Mrs. Cavadini, had been severely depleted because the Resistance took most of them.

In fact, Blossom was currently sitting in a chair on the second floor, flipping through a battered copy of _The Last of the Mohicans_ when she heard a distinct voice. She looked up, frowning in surprise, and floated from her perch. Gliding over to the railing, she looked down to see a head of greasy black hair talking with a mildly unhappy Buttercup. Resisting the sudden urge to groan, Blossom went back to seat and continued to skim her novel. Hopefully the Gangreen Gang would leave soon.

"Aw, c'mon, Butters! We foun' some really awesome shit!" Blossom heard Ace's futile attempts to get Buttercup to accept whatever they had found and rolled her eyes. This was the fifth time in her being with the rebels that the gang had appeared. They always found 'some really awesome shit' whenever they came. From what Kim said, it was a pretty common happenstance.

"Ugh. What is it _this_ time, Ace?" Buttercup's voice floated up from below and Blossom was tempted to look again. "And _don't _call me 'Butters'." But she didn't risk it, in case one of the gang looked up. They had decided to keep her existence a secret from everyone that wasn't a rebel. Therefore, the Gangreen Gang had no idea that she was alive.

"We'ssss not sure youssss can usssse it, but it'ssss cool," Snake said, receiving a resigned sigh from Buttercup.

"All right, let's see it," she responded and Blossom felt her curiosity spark when a wave of surprise came from her sister.

"_Blossom."_

Looking up from her book, Blossom looked around in confusion, before realizing that the call had come from her mind. Blushing, she leaned back in her chair and answered her sister cautiously.

"_Did you call, Buttercup?"_ she asked mentally, frowning down at the book that no longer held her attention. A small burst of awe came from Buttercup before she received an answer.

"_I think…I think the Gangreen Gang found a piece of your ice wall from three weeks ago."_

Shock immediately flooded her and her eyes widened. Her ice had lasted _three weeks_? She knew the wall she had created to protect Butch's unit had been big, sure, but she hadn't expected it to last very long. Besides, when she had made it, it had been the middle of July! A sharp sting issued from her temple causing Blossom to grab her head. She rubbed it, frowning as a memory vaguely came back. It was too blurry to be of much use, but she could feel the cool chill of her cryokinesis on her palms and was startled to find that she had slightly frosted her novel. Gently brushing the frost off the pages, Blossom tried to gather her thoughts. She was still trying to piece together why her ice had lasted so long.

"…_it's…per…ost…"_

That statement was from her most recent recollection, another puzzle piece that was extremely ambiguous. She didn't know the voice; hell, she couldn't even hear the voice that well. For all she knew, it could be herself saying it, it was so garbled. Blossom had no idea what the statement should say. It was something…but what was what? Sighing, her head lulled back, hitting the back of her chair. Her amnesia was annoying. If there was one thing Blossom hated, it was not knowing something. She hated having that helpless feeling. She prided herself on her intelligence. Not knowing something felt like an insult. But what was she to do? She had amnesia and she wasn't even sure she wanted her memories back. Her indecision made her irritated. She had always hated indecisive people. But that wasn't what the problem was here. Where had the proud and strong Blossom gone?

Meanwhile, Buttercup at this time was turning the rather large chunk of ice over in her hands. The block was still cool to the touch and for some reason there wasn't much perspiration on the surface. She had to remove her hands at certain points because her skin was actually freezing to the surface of the ice. She glanced up to the second floor, knowing that Blossom was curled up somewhere up there, and wondered briefly how she was handling the news.

"So? This is, like, proof that yer sista's alive, right?" Ace asked, fixing his sunglasses. Buttercup snorted, rolling the ice chunk in her hands again.

"I guess this _is_ better proof then just a story," she admitted reluctantly, deciding not to tell the man in front of her that her sister was already in the library at that moment. "You actually did find something 'really awesome' this time."

"C'mon, Butters!" Buttercup scowled at him, hissing out an irate "Don't call me that" and glaring daggers at him. "We always find awesome shit!"

Snorting incredulously, Buttercup handed off the ice piece to another rebel before returning her attention to the Gangreen Gang. It was obvious that the gang had aged, but they still looked ridiculously young, a fact that Buttercup still found herself puzzling over. Glancing over the gang, she rolled her eyes at the matching leather jackets they all had. (She was still surprised that they had managed to find one that fit Big Billy. The boy had that nickname for a reason.) There were some differences from when they had been kids, such as their wardrobe and Ace's and Snake's hair. Both had let it grow out and Ace kept his in a ponytail, though he still had bangs, while Snake's was even longer and tied in a braid down his back.

Crossing her arms, Buttercup narrowed her eyes at Ace. "Okay. You brought what you found…why aren't you leaving?"

"Aw, babe. Ya wound me!" Ace dramatically placed a hand over his heart, looking hurt. "I just wanna spend some time wit'cha, that's all!"

Buttercup raised an eyebrow, not missing the way that Mitch, who was returning from a patrol, paused to check out what Harry was doing at the computers. She knew that her co-leader was actually stopping to see what Ace was playing at. Snorting and shaking her head, the green puff gave Ace a rather sarcastic smirk.

"And what makes you think I'll give you the time of day?" She gave him another cold smirk and turned on her heel, heading towards the closest staircase. "Besides, I'm busy as all hell what with Brick suddenly calling back all active military units."

"Oh really? Then why did you have time for us, Butters?" Ace asked as he followed after her, ignoring the glowing green glare she sent him. "I mean, if yer sooooo busy and all, couldn'tcha, I dunno, gotten a grunt or sumptin' to see what we had?"

Buttercup resisted the urge to grind her teeth, trying to ignore the heavy footfalls of the Gangreen leader behind her. She didn't want to admit to Ace that she was going slack with patrols. It was just that after finding Blossom, she felt that she no longer had to do them. She had found her sister, who had been the reason behind all the patrols in the first place. (Well, she had never verbally said that, but to her, that was always the reason behind them.) Of course, the heavy traffic coming from the Resistance soldiers _did_ indeed keep her busy. She wondered how many times she had shoved Blossom into a closet because a soldier was about to walk by. She took the stairs two at a time and reached the second floor quickly.

Glancing around, Buttercup sent a call out to Blossom mentally. There was a moment of silence and then an unimpressed cough came from her left. Heat flooding her cheeks, Buttercup turned to see Blossom sitting in one of the chairs and looking curiously at her. Her red haired sister had a look that clearly questioned Buttercup's intelligence before it suddenly clouded over. A chill went down her spine causing Buttercup to curse under her breath.

"Weeeeeelly, welly, well, well. Look who it is!" Ace said, lowering his sunglasses as he eyed Blossom. "If it isn't Little Blossy!"

Blossom's pink eyes flashed and she softly hissed, "_Don't_ call me 'Blossy'."

Ace just smirked in response, turning to Buttercup. "Oh? You needed _proof_ that she was alive? I mean, she looks pretty much alive to me!"

The rebel leader snarled in response, eyes flashing dangerously. Apparently Ace developed a neurosis that said smiling salaciously at angry Powerpuffs was a good idea. Buttercup was trying to remember why she had had a crush on the man in front of her. He was sleazy and annoying beyond all hell. Closing her eyes to try and calm herself, Buttercup supposed _that's_ exactly why she had liked him. She resisted the urge to gag and, opening her eyes, found Ace walking casually towards the now standing Blossom. The pink puff's muscles were tense, though it was not visible unless one had grown up with her…one such as Buttercup, who upon seeing her sister tense, growled threateningly, "Stay away from her, Ace."

"The Resistance know?" Ace asked, completely ignoring Buttercup's demand. He glanced over his shoulder nonchalantly, resisting the urge to grin as Buttercup's jaw tightened.

"O-Of course!" Buttercup swallowed thickly. Ace wouldn't tell the Resistance…he couldn't! The Resistance…well, no, Princess hated him and there was no love lost between Ace and Butch, but otherwise, no else cared much for him or his gang. But tell them that Blossom was alive?

Ace seemed to catch the slight tremor in her voice and victoriously smiled at her. He, obviously, was on the same train of thought. "So…I guess me telling 'em that Blossy here is alive won't, y'know, surprise 'em?"

"Of course not!" Buttercup said, scoffing to hide her growing panic. Images of Resistance soldiers coming to drag Blossom away filled her mind and a bitter taste filled her mouth. No, it wouldn't be soldiers; she had a gut feeling that Brick himself would come to take her sister away. Ace's grin only seemed to widen.

"Let's go call 'em, then," he said, leaning against the bookshelf indifferently. He pulled out a pack of cigarettes and, taking one out and placing it to his lips, lighted one with a battered green Zippo lighter. Clicking the lighter shut, he took a drag and turned to Buttercup, letting the smoke out as he talked. "Well?"

Clenching her fists, Buttercup felt her anger boil in her veins. Why was she acting so afraid of this pathetic excuse of a man? Her eyes narrowed and for a split second, a fiery, green aura wrapped itself around her body before a wave of cold anger and disappointment slammed into her system. Gasping, eyes widening, Buttercup flicked her gaze to the utterly unreadable Blossom. If she wasn't feeling Blossom's emotions at the moment, she would have sworn that the pink Powerpuff was unaffected by their current situation.

"No, the Resistance doesn't know about me," Blossom said, ignoring the flare of anger from Buttercup. She was somewhat surprised how easily she slipped back into her leader persona. It felt good to have control of a situation.

Ace looked at the redhead from over his shades, smirking around his cigarette. Looking her over, he took in her large sweater and jeans and chuckled. If Buttercup was any reference, then Ace was pretty damn sure that Blossom was a babe under that baggy maroon sweater. Blossom scowled at him, her nose scrunching up in a way that Ace found absolutely delectable. Personally, he preferred Buttercup, but Blossom had grown up pretty well, too. Plenty of decidedly unwholesome thoughts were forming in Ace's mind and a lot of them revolved around one or both of the sisters coming to him in the dead of night.

"Pig," said redhead hissed, crossing her arms. Ace raised an eyebrow, still grinning suggestively. Opening his mouth to retort, he was cut off by Buttercup.

"Yo, shit bag. She can read your thoughts," Buttercup snapped causing the sunglasses wearing man to whip towards her in shock.

"W-What?"

"Yeah, your little fantasies? Yeah, Blossom's been telepathically sending them to me." Buttercup face looked particularly murderous and she cracked her knuckles ominously. "Hey…you remember the good old days when we beat your sorry asses? No? Well…"

Smirking, Blossom shook her head. "Buttercup."

Ace looked between to the two Powerpuffs in shock, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly. His cigarette had fallen out of his mouth due to his jaw dropping and he aggressively crushed it to hide his embarrassment. Clearing his throat, Ace spoke to the two women, "Okay. So…Blossy's here." He ignored the narrowed pink glare he received at this comment. "And the Resistance don't know a thing…"

Buttercup looked at him, eyes once again glowing her signature light green. "What are you insinuating?"

Ace shrugged, straightening his leather jacket. "Hey, y'know that the Resistance will pay pretty well to know that Little Blossy here's alive."

"Not without proof," growled Buttercup as Snake suddenly appeared besides her. "Holy-! What the fuck, Snake!"

The gang member didn't answer her immediately; he just stared blankly at Blossom for a few moments before clearing his throat. "Wellsssss, there sssstill issss that icccce, youssss knowssss."

Blossom blood ran cold at that. How much of her ice had survived? Her expression must have betrayed her terror because Buttercup rounded on Snake faster than the green-skinned man's namesake. Said gangster stumbled backwards at the force of her glare and gulped fearfully. Buttercup could be very scary when she was angry. Especially when her eyes were glowing nearly radioactive green.

"There's _more_?" she snarled as her body lighted up with green energy.

It was obvious that Snake was scared of her and, from the stuttering bursts of fear, so was Blossom to a point. But what could Buttercup do? When she got angry, her newest ability, gained no doubt around the same time Blossom gained her telepathy, activated. Mitch called it her "berserk mode"; she jokingly called it her "Butch mode". Both names fit though, because Buttercup usually lost all sense when she used it. That was one of the reasons why she tried not to use it too much. Not just because she lost a lot of energy, but also because she lost _herself_. It was terrifying enough when she was younger, when, for the longest time, no one knew their individual names, but now, years later, when she had her individuality, it was so much more terrifying. Because it wasn't just her individuality she was losing, no, she was losing all aspects of herself; her mind, her personality, and her inhibitions.

"_Buttercup. Calm down." _An authoritative thought was forced into her diminishing mind and some instinct, some long forgotten kneejerk reaction, told her to heed this voice.

Taking gulping, deep breaths, Buttercup stared at a point above Snake's head, allowing her once battle ready muscles to tense. She unclasped her fists, not surprised when she found bloody crescents where her fingernails had dug into the skin. She had to calm down. Her temper was her flaw. She always wanted to go with no thought or caution to inhibit her. That was why she had Mitch as a co-captain. There was no way she would have been able to lead the rebels without him.

Gritting her teeth, Buttercup asked Snake again, "There…is more _ice_?"

It still sounded like a growl but, without the fiery aura that signified her berserk mode, Snake was a little more willing to answer. At least without the fear that Buttercup would blast his head off if he answered wrong.

"Y-Yessss. There'sssss a lot more," he told her, wincing as Ace slapped his forehead. "Ssssorry, Acccce."

Arms crossed as she took in the news, Blossom looked at the three people gathered in front of her. It worried her that her ice had last so long. In the past it had never lasted that long, not even when she first discovered it. The winter wonderland she had created at Pokey Oaks had melted by the same time the next day. Even the snow that had been the meteor had dissolved a couple of days later. But lasting three weeks? This was definitely new to her. It was almost like her ice was permafrost…

Eyes widening, her recollection from earlier came back to her, but no longer was the voice blurry. She still couldn't identify who was saying it, but the statement was clear now.

"_It's like permafrost." _

Her ice breath had first developed into cryokinesis when she became ten, just before she hit puberty. And if she remembered correctly, Buttercup's tornado, which had always been stronger than either her or Bubbles', had suddenly developed into aerokinesis also around that time and Bubbles was suddenly able to learn foreign languages a lot easier than she had before about the same time. But even still, it hadn't been this powerful…Blossom then had to remind herself that it wasn't two years since she was ten, but ten years. Looking down at her hand, the redhead found herself wishing she could talk to the Professor. However, there was no way she could without alerting the Resistance that she was alive.

The Professor, from what Blossom had learned from Buttercup and Mrs. Cavadini, was, while not an officer, an important figure in the Resistance. He wasn't allowed to leave the Resistance headquarters without an armed guard of a least six soldiers and one of the four superpowered humans living there. So there was no way that Blossom could get him to the library without alerting one of the Rowdyruffs or her sister of her presence. And despite her desperate desire to do so, she just couldn't do it. She didn't want to fight Bubbles or Brick. She just wanted her family back together.

The tears came unbidden, but thankfully, Buttercup was too busy ripping Snake and Ace a new one to notice as Blossom rubbed at her eyes. She didn't need to show the Gangreen Gang weakness. She already was babied enough as it was by Buttercup. She didn't want anyone else to realize just how vulnerable she felt. A sinking feeling entered her stomach and a rather unpleasant thought filled her mind, followed by, yet again, the reiteration of contemptuous "You're weak" from her memories. Brick would know that she was vulnerable. And Blossom knew he would. They had been able to tell that about each other and it never ceased to anger the other. It was an inherent ability that they had developed after their countless tussles, but Blossom hoped after ten years that the ability had become irreparably rusty.

"UGH. FINE! OKAY, YOU KNOW WHAT, ACE? NONE OF YOU ARE LEAVING HERE UNLESS _I_ SAY SO!" Buttercup finally screamed and a collective hush fell, not only on the other three present, but the _whole _library. Finally, a shout echoed up from somewhere on the first floor.

"WHAT?" It was then followed by Arturo and Mitch scrambling up the stairs. Both men looked furious and bewildered at the same time and Arturo, who just barely reached Mitch's waist, was trying to make himself looked a lot bigger than he was.

"Whatchu mean nunna us are leaving unless you say so, chica?" Arturo snapped, glaring at the rebel leader.

"Buttercup…" Mitch growled and Buttercup turned to him. Somehow Mitch managed not to flinch at the nearly completely green eyes narrowed at him. Arturo, on the other hand, had taken shelter behind Mitch's legs.

Crossing her arms, Buttercup said to her partner, "They saw Blossom. They threatened to tell the Resistance. They are _not_ leaving."

This was all said with the most murderous look that Mitch had ever seen on Buttercup's face in a long time. If there was one way to successfully tick Buttercup off, it was to threaten one of her family. Then again, Ace already had the preternatural ability to aggravate anyone enough to contemplate murder. Sighing and running a hand through his hair, Mitch grudgingly conceded with Buttercup's wishes. He was _not_ going against her with this. After all, the moment she told him that they had seen Blossom, there was no way he was going to let them leave anyway.

"Looks like we have some new tenants," Mitch remarked and the three gang members turned to him. He returned their shocked faces with a look of nonchalance. "You saw Blossom. We can't let you leave."

"Alive, at least," Buttercup added, smiling the most vicious smile that Ace had ever seen and even Blossom was trembling lightly at the psychotic tinge to her sister's grin.

Blossom was really regretting letting Buttercup fight Butch so much at that moment…

* * *

><p>It was much later at night, around eight, when the rebels received a transmission from a returning Resistance unit. Immediately, the rebels went about the typical preparations that occurred whenever a Resistance unit arrived, which consisted mostly of them making enough room in the main library for all the soldiers to sleep. Mrs. Cavadini, Kim, and another female rebel began preparing dinner for the soldiers and, thirty minutes later, the hungry calls of said soldiers were soon echoing through the library. From the ruckus they were making one would think that the soldiers hadn't eaten in days.<p>

The men and women of the military unit milled about, settling down when Kim and the other female rebel came out with a large cart carrying their dinner. They all gazed hungrily at it as if the food was some sacred gift. It took a while for the two women to give the soldiers their dinner. The unit was fairly larger than the other units that Blossom had witnessed and, upon settling her gaze on the commanding officer from her second story perch, suddenly remembered something that Harry had told her earlier.

"_The units lead by Bubbles, Boomer, and Brick are three of the largest."_

That explained the surplus of soldiers and Blossom continued to stare at the commanding officer, committing all his features to memory. She really should have realized that the Rowdyruff Boys would be incorrigibly good-looking, just as her and her sisters were. (Blossom was pretty darn sure that Bubbles was as beautiful, if not more so, as her and Buttercup.) She wasn't surprised that they had developed the features they been lacking like she and her sisters had and she wondered briefly when they had gone through puberty. As she looked over the man now talking with Mitch, Blossom felt a sharp pang of longing.

Seeing Boomer suddenly made her wish that Bubbles was here.

Blossom sighed, falling back into one of the chairs. Boomer did look very handsome, that was for sure. His blonde hair was shaggy, like how she remembered it, but looked feathery at the same time and maybe a little longer. (Then again, it _was_ ten years since she last saw him, so she couldn't be sure.) He was as tall as Mitch, maybe an inch or two taller, and with the lean muscle of a track runner. The years had been good to Boomer, giving the blonde Rowdyruff very handsome, boyish features. And he still had those beautiful cobalt eyes, now less mischievous and more serious, but they were still the eyes of her bubbly sister's counterpart.

Blossom groaned, flipping her bangs out of her face. As much as she enjoyed seeing another superhuman other than Buttercup, she knew that if Boomer found out about her, he would tell Brick without hesitation. If Bubbles had been extremely loyal to her, than Boomer, as Bubbles' counterpart, would be, in theory, just as loyal to Brick. So Blossom hid herself on the second floor, clutching her knees to her chest as she thought over her predicament. She listened to the sound of the soldiers talking and the occasional shout without really paying attention. It was a weird feeling, being so close to people that, had she never disappeared, she would have been comrades with. Eyes closing, Blossom let her head fall back. She felt awfully antisocial, hiding away from everyone, but it was for her own safety.

It was driving her insane.

Before she had disappeared, Blossom had been the leader and that had been her place. She took upon herself the title of leader and "eldest" and had been the responsible one ever since the time when they were first created and the Professor was worried about how the people would react to their powers. She had been the one to reprimand Buttercup for wanting to act recklessly, to go against orders, but now…now Blossom wanted desperately to act out, to have the soldiers see her. She wondered why she had this reckless craving, but she knew that she would never act on it.

"_Still the responsible one, even after all this time,"_ she thought to herself, letting her thoughts drift. _"Still…the responsible…one…"_

What seemed like moments later, Blossom was jolting awake, eyes widening as almost sludge like thoughts invaded her mind. Yawning, she rubbed her eyes and then her head as she looked around the darkened library. She hadn't realized she had fallen asleep. It had been a nice peaceful sleep too, despite how much she had been stressing over before. Well, it had been fitful until those thoughts had entered her mind, anyway. Now fully awake, Blossom stretched and quietly stood, frowning as she tried to remember those thoughts that had wakened her. A shiver passed through her and Blossom shook her head to clear those vile thoughts from it.

"Emmons? What's up?" The whispered voice was almost missed by her super hearing, but Blossom instantly focused on it, turning her body to the source. She looked down at the first floor, seeing one soldier standing while one of his comrades was propped up on an elbow, looking up at him.

Emmons pulled something from his waist causing red flags to go up in Blossom's mind. Now focusing on this man, she forced herself into his mind and found herself suddenly holding the railing for support as the same evil, sludgy thoughts filled her head. They were so dark and so putrid, like they had been allowed to fester and decay for years as hatred built up in the man that stood amongst his sleeping peers. Blossom's vision blacked out and she felt herself tip forward. The next thing she knew, she was looking at the ceiling as a surprised shout of "Emmons" and the retort of a gun echoed through the sleeping library.

Immediately, ignoring the groaning of her injured back, Blossom was on her feet and jumping onto the top of a bookshelf. She landed lightly and, training her gaze on Emmons, felt an odd feeling of familiarity. It wasn't because the man looked familiar; he was a complete stranger to her. No, the feeling was about something else…something about those thoughts…

"_You_!" Emmons hissed in a voice that should not have come from a human throat, literally foaming at the mouth at the sight of her.

Furrowing her brow in thought, Blossom remained in a relaxed pose as she slightly tensed her muscles. A guttural growl escaped the man's throat and he lunged forward, flying over the ground much faster than a normal human. He threw himself at the bookshelf, upsetting it, but Blossom instantly took flight, still probing his mind. She felt like she should know why he was acting like that and, as she found a promising memory, the skin on Emmons' hands bubbled and dark colored knife-like protrusions exploded from them. Eyes widening, not only at the blades but also the memory, Blossom flew higher, wobbling slightly. She scolded herself for not using her powers more in the three weeks that she had been there.

In the next moment, as Emmons glared up at her, Blossom vaguely heard the surprised gasps of the Resistance soldiers. However, she was more focused on trying to make Emmons' memory clearer than the reactions of the troops. Some part of her knew that it had been stupid to jump on top of the bookshelf, but another part, the part that had been dormant for so long, knew that she had done what any hero would've done. However, Blossom didn't have time to dwell on these thoughts as Emmons suddenly crouched as if he were about to jump. For some reason, Blossom became wary at his actions and then shook her head, scolding herself. A normal human couldn't jump high enough to reach her!

She gasped as Emmons literally jumped the twelve feet between them. She twisted, managing to dodge the weird blades that had grown from his hands, and caught sight of his face. A cry of surprise and disgust escaped her throat as she landed on another bookshelf, her hands instantly covering her mouth. What was happening to Emmons? His face was grotesquely deformed on one side by weird, black pustules where the skin had darkened as if burned. The whites of his eyes were a shocking yellow and the irises, which Blossom assumed had been hazel before, were now a weird orange color. It was at this moment that the memory suddenly became crystal clear.

_Emmons was slowly surveying the wreckage from the most recent battle with the aliens. He sighed, adjusting his grip on his rifle. They were all so tired. Thank God that the Rebels' base was extremely close. Now smiling slightly, the twenty-something walked around one of the decimated tanks of the alien troops. He stopped abruptly, rifle ready, at the sight of an alien corpse. Cautiously creeping closer, Emmons noticed the distinct burns and cuts that could only come from the blasts and psionic sword of Boomer. Relaxing, the soldier let out a soft sigh. Despite his kind demeanor, Boomer was vicious in battle. That was one of the reasons why Emmons feared his commander. _

_As the soldier turned, something grabbed his ankle and the next thing Emmons knew, he was being pressed to the ground. Opening his mouth to shout, a bleeding wrist was forced into it and he gagged as the blood covered his teeth and tongue._

_Something leaned towards his ear and hissed, "Drink!" _

_For some reason, Emmons was compelled to listen to the voice and drank deeply, swallowing the heavily metallic tasting blood. The voice groaned and then said, "And you…will find Blo…ssom…and…ki…ll…" _

_As the alien slackened its grip, Emmons threw it off him, rubbing furiously at his mouth and spitting on the ground. _

"_Emmons!" The soldier stared at the alien for a moment before running towards his commanding officer's call._

It took Blossom a moment to realize that Boomer's shout wasn't just from the memory. The blue ruff stood only ten feet away, a blue sword made of energy in one hand. His cobalt eyes were glowing faintly and flickered between Emmons and Blossom. Blossom turned to him, blinking away the fuzziness that witnessing Emmons' memory had caused. Briefly, Boomer let his gaze rest on her and she could tell he was deciding on how to act. When he turned his gaze away, it was clear that Boomer found Emmons the higher priority. Taking a breath, Blossom also turned her attention back to Emmons.

The mutated soldier looked between the two superpowered beings, though his eyes were constantly dragged to Blossom. Snarling ferociously, the soldier disregarded Boomer completely and raced towards Blossom. The redheaded puff narrowed her eyes and somersaulted backwards, Emmons' blades just catching her hair. As she landed, she stretched out her hand, which was glowing pink, and blasted Emmons in the chest. The soldier went flying backwards and slammed into an empty bookshelf, denting the metal. For a moment, Blossom felt dread fill her heart as Emmons slumped. Had she killed him?

"Oh God…" Blossom groaned as she looked at the man. She couldn't have, could she? She never killed a man before. But as she thought that, a sharp sting came from her temple and, eyes widening, Blossom saw disjointed images flash before her eyes as Emmons got to his feet. Collapsing to one knee, she gripped her head, trying to force the memories back. Now was not the time to sort through the muddy images. At this opening, Emmons lunged forward and Blossom, without meaning to, slipped back into his mind.

The alien's words were what she first heard and then, delving deeper, Blossom heard a softer, but more ardent, voice.

"_Save me! I don't want to do this! Stop! Stop me!"_

Gasping softly, Blossom looked up, wincing as those blurry, red memories swirled behind her eyelids. Emmons needed help, so her recollection of whatever happened before would have to wait.

Boomer had cut off the soldier, but wasn't doing much more than blocking Emmons' attempts to get to Blossom. Slowly getting to her feet, Blossom looked at the back of Boomer's head with a strong feeling of empathy. Boomer didn't want to harm his subordinate, but knew that he had to. And Blossom knew what she had to do too.

Now fully erect, Blossom swayed ever so slightly before rushing towards the two struggling men. She had to end this. From what she could tell, Boomer was too soft-hearted to take out his own soldier and while she had no doubt that any of the others may be able to, Blossom was not about to let any of them do that. She had a better idea. If they could find a cure to the alien blood he had ingested then maybe, just maybe, they could save Emmons, but the only way to keep Emmons from killing anyone else at the moment was her cryokinesis.

"Boomer!" Blossom called, feeling weird about saying the blonde's name after so long. "Move!"

Glancing back at her, the blue ruff shot into the air just as Blossom took a deep breath. She then exhaled, freezing Emmons completely. And she had timed it perfectly, too. One of the blades attached to Emmons' hands was just a few inches from her stomach. Letting out a sigh, Blossom landed in front of the frozen soldier and gently touched the ice incasing him. She felt sorry for the man in front of her. Because for some reason, she felt it was her fault that he had been used by that alien. Heck, Blossom felt that the whole situation was her fault. If she hadn't been so careless…

At the sound of footsteps, Blossom turned around and met Boomer's cautious gaze. The Resistance officer was frowning and, after a painfully pregnant pause, he reached out gently touched her cheek. Boomer's brow furrowed and he opened his mouth, murmuring softly in his confusion, "Blossom?"

The pink puff smiled shyly at his confusion, gently touching his hand. "Hi, Boomer. How have you been?"

X-

I hope you enjoy this chapter! And remember, reviews help me write faster! :D


	5. Let Me Take You There

**Storm**

_Trivia: The title is taken from the song _Let Me Take You There_ by Plain White T's._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 4: Let Me Take You There<strong>

He sat staring at the computer screen without really seeing it. It was early in the morning and he hadn't slept at all the night before. Of course, he _had_ been looking over the reports from not only the units from the Townsville branch of the Resistance, but reports from other branches as well. Rubbing his eyes, he frowned down at the message from Boomer. It stated that the blue ruff had made it to the rebel base without too many fatalities. That was good, but what else it stated made him confused and apprehensive. Apparently the rebels had decided to finally join with the Resistance. He had to admit that it was good, more manpower was always good, but why would Buttercup suddenly swallow her pride and join them?

It did not sit well with Brick.

The red ruff leaned back in his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. It was a while since he saw any of the rebels. Hell, it was a while since he even went into the field! He had been more focused on strategizing and planning. However, there had to be a reason for Buttercup suddenly deciding to join them. Brick knew for a fact that Buttercup would have eaten all of her toes and fingers instead of joining them and listening to someone other than Pinky. His frown deepened and Brick covered his mouth in thought, brows furrowing. There was no way Buttercup would join them, so why? Why was she? What could have spurred her to do so?

The thought came to him unbidden and Brick wasn't even sure why he was thinking it.

Why did he suddenly think that Pinky had something to do with this?

* * *

><p>Blossom sat on one of the bookshelves, kicking her legs absentmindedly. It was morning, maybe seven or eight, and the rebels were running around collecting belongings that they wanted to bring with them to the Resistance base. She had to admit she was surprised that Buttercup had agreed to join. The invitation had only been a formality; she knew she would be going to the Resistance whatever Buttercup said. It somewhat irked her that she had no real control over what she did anymore. But then she remembered how long she was gone and how much the world had changed due to the Narcassians. Whenever she remembered that, she felt selfish afterwards. With the way things were now, everyone had to be treated with a healthy dose of suspicion.<p>

That being said, it was no surprise that the Resistance soldiers had two men watching her and she wasn't allowed to help the rebels collect their possessions. Huffing softly, she held up her head with her right hand, her elbow on her knee. She wasn't a threat. Yes, she had been taken by the aliens, but she had managed to escape and had been helping the rebels ever since. True, she had not told the Resistance that she was back, but could they blame her? Snorting incredulously, Blossom rolled her eyes at her own naïveté. Of course, they could blame her! The pink puff sighed and, catching sight of Boomer, sat up.

"Hey! Boomer!" she called to the military officer. The blue ruff turned at her call and, looking guarded, went over to her. Blossom gave him a reassuring smile, but Boomer still looked guarded. "Seriously, I'm not going to attack anyone."

Boomer sighed, shaking his head. "Sorry, Blossom. Can't take that chance."

Fighting the urge to pout, Blossom said instead, "But you know me-."

"No, I don't," the blonde Rowdyruff cut her off, frowning at her. "_Brick_ knew you, or at least, the you he fought against. _I_ only knew you as Bubbles' sister and Brick's counterpart because we never really fought." He crossed his arms, looking as if he wanted to feel sorry for her, but knew he shouldn't. "And I haven't seen you for ten years, Blossom. I don't know how much you've changed."

Blossom wasn't sure how to react to that. What Boomer said was all true. She never fought with him and honestly, what did she know about him? Besides the few insistences where she was able to observe his behavior, such as when they kidnapped him and had Bubbles go undercover as him, she next to nothing about the blue ruff. She knew that Boomer had started not talking whenever the two trios ever met around when they were eight and she had a suspicion as to why. Brick had seemed to rather enjoy abusing his "youngest" brother whenever he said something Brick deemed stupid.

"…you're right," she finally admitted, sighing. She ran a hand through her hair before propping her head on her fist. She gave Boomer a melancholy smile before speaking again. "And I suppose appealing to your soft side won't work because you're a Rowdyruff and don't have one?"

At that, Boomer's look hardened and he turned away. "We haven't called ourselves the Rowdyruff Boys in years…and I haven't considered myself one either."

He left after that and Blossom looked after him with a mixture of sympathy and empathy. They haven't been calling themselves the Rowdyruff Boys? Everyone still called them that, but it was one thing to be called that by everyone else. It was another thing all together when the ones the name referred to no longer considered it them. A tight feeling filled Blossom's chest and the redhead clasped her hands together, leaning her mouth against it. She never asked, but did Buttercup still refer to herself as a Powerpuff Girl? Did Bubbles?

"Ah, hell nah! Why do we hafta go with yas?" Ace's voice cut through her thoughts and the pink puff turned a little to see Ace stalking after an annoyed Mitch and infuriated Buttercup.

"Do ya think I'm gonna let you guys run around after you've seen Blossom! Think again, you motherfucker!" Buttercup shouted back, rounding on the just as angry man. "And do you think I _want_ to go to the Resistance? I _don't_! But to keep Blossom safe and not have fucking _Brick_ breathing down our necks, I'm going to the Resistance! AND _you_, your gang, all the Rebels, and Blossom are all fucking coming with me!"

"Why don't youssss sssscream louder? I don't thinkssss they heard youssss in Tibet," Snake remarked from the back of one of the two trucks the rebels were loading with their possessions. He was perched on the tailgate, completely ignoring the two rebels attempting to push a large bag inside. "Wessss getssss it. Wessss have to go to the Ressssisssstance with youssss."

Snarling, Buttercup whipped towards him, her fists glowing radioactive green. She took a step and then another and another until the next thing anyone knew, Buttercup was charging the truck at top speed. Blossom immediately jumped from her perch, zooming towards her enraged sister. However, there was no way she would be able to make it in time. Not with the speed Buttercup was using.

_WHAM!_

With an earth-shaking thud, Buttercup was unceremoniously slammed into the floor, causing a rather large crater. Blossom skidded to stop just feet away, pink eyes wide as Boomer calmly straightened. His cobalt eyes were hard and he was frowning down at Buttercup. Said Powerpuff gasped out and, rolling onto her side, started coughing. Slowly, she pushed herself up and sent a withering glare to Boomer. Her glare was received with an apathetic look.

"You should learn to control your temper," he said softly, coldly, as he floated into the air. He easily dodged the punch Buttercup threw at him and actually caught her wrist. "I am _not_ fighting with you, Buttercup."

Something in the way Boomer said that made Buttercup freeze. She stared at him with wide eyes that were filled with an emotion that the blue ruff didn't recognize. She had heard that said before. It had been a while ago. So long ago…it almost felt like another lifetime. Ripping her wrist from his grip, Buttercup floated back to the ground, eyes darting between Boomer and Blossom. That's right. Blossom had been the one who said that, hadn't she? Back when they had been forced to that asteroid because of the indignation from the people of Townsville and where they had first decided to save them, despite all that the people had said against them. Her eyes snapped back to her sister and lime met rose.

"_I'm _not_ fighting with you, Buttercup!" _Blossom remembered saying that. She remembered how angry Buttercup had been and, from the storm of emotions she could sense from the 'Toughest Fighter', Buttercup was just as angry now as she had been that time. Sighing softly, Blossom closed her eyes, collecting her thoughts. The swirling emotions from Buttercup were not helping, though, and the 'Commander and Leader' wondered how Mitch managed to work with her hotheaded sister. Then she wondered how _she_ had been able to do it those years ago.

"Buttercup," she called, eyes snapping open to look at her sister. "Calm yourself. Getting angry will not help anything."

Her sister rounded on her, ready to let her know exactly what was on her mind. However, with one look into Blossom's eyes, Buttercup faltered and, clenching her fists tightly, stood down. The pink puff continued to watch her until she was sure that Buttercup would not suddenly jump up and strangle Snake. For some reason, Blossom was very surprised that Buttercup was actually listening to her. Only a day ago was Buttercup telling Blossom what to do and now? It seemed like the roles were no longer switched.

There was a tense and rather pregnant silence after the ordeal and those who had stopped to watch quickly went back to whatever they had been doing. Blossom continued to monitor her sister, literally shadowing Buttercup around until Harry stopped the green puff in the middle of her pacing.

"We just packed the last bag, BC," he reported, fixing the strap of his backpack. He shifted as Buttercup merely stared at him. "So…are…are we leaving now?"

The rebel leader blinked languidly before rubbing her eyes and sighing. "As soon as the Resistance assholes are ready."

Blossom leered at her sister and jumped when someone cleared their throat from behind her. Whipping around, surprised that she hadn't noticed someone sneaking up on her, Blossom came face to face with a rather emotionless Boomer.

He smirked sarcastically and said, "The Resistance assholes are ready to go."

Flushing slightly, Buttercup snorted, crossing her arms. "Good." She turned and, uncrossing her arms, called out to the rebels. "All right, rebels! Get your asses over here! Kids and Mrs. Cavadini into a truck! Everyone else on the bikes or pile into the backs of the trucks!"

As Buttercup was screaming at the rebels, Boomer was shouting orders to his units. "Fall into line! Everyone at ready! We leave in five!"

"Sir, yes, sir!"

As they were trained, the Resistance soldiers immediately fell into line, the ice block that encased Emmons on a trolley attached to Floyd's motorcycle. Blossom watched impressed at the efficiency and order in which the soldiers moved. And the fact they obeyed Boomer so well, despite his history, was even more impressive. A small bubble of hope formed in her chest. The Rowdyruff Boys had been one of their fiercest rivals…they _had_ been their fiercest rivals and renowned vandals. If they could trust Boomer, who had been a known villain, then possibly, just possibly, they would trust her, despite her being gone so long…

* * *

><p>Boomer hadn't given him a precise time in which to expect him, so Brick went about business as usual.<p>

This was spent heavily on trying to get Butch actually learn and use the strategies he had devised.

Rubbing his temples, Brick gritted his teeth as his hot-tempered brother crossed his arms and gave him a defiant look. This was not working. It was strange. Usually getting Butch to look over and agree on a strategy took only an hour or so, not nearly two hours, twenty-seven minutes, and forty seconds. (Brick had indeed been keeping count. It was one of the ways that helped him keep calm, or at least, he used to _try_ and stay calm.) It was almost like as soon as Butch learned that the rebels were actually joining, he decided that whatever Brick had to say was irrelevant. Running a hand through his hair, Brick glared darkly at his brother.

"All right, Butch. What the fuck is so hard about this fucking strategy?" he snapped angrily, red eyes flashing in a very dangerous way.

"What's so hard…? Oh! Uh, yeah. What's so hard is…uh…" Butch trailed off at the sight of Brick squeezing his eyes closed in aggravation.

Running a hand over his face, the Resistance leader looked straight at Butch and, insulting his brother entirely with his eyes, voiced a question he was dreading to get an answer from.

"You are _not_ getting excited over the fact that Buttercup is coming here, are you?" he asked so calmly that Butch found himself inching backwards very, very slowly. "Because if you are and that is the reason why you're so fucking distracted, so help me, Butch, I make sure that you won't be able to do _anything_, but eat food through a tube, for a _fucking week_!"

Swallowing dryly, Butch merely grinned widely at his very irate brother. "Brick…I love you, man. You know that, right?" And then he sped away at top speed leaving an _extremely_ furious Brick in his wake.

* * *

><p>Multiple hours later, the rebels and Boomer's military unit were in the tunnels. Said tunnels had been created a little after the Resistance's Townsville base had been finished and crisscrossed the nation connecting to all other Resistance bases. The underground highways were covered in vibrant white tiles with bright fluorescent lights forming a thick stripe on the ceiling. On either side of the tunnel were thin, neon lights that glowed with a deep blue light, much like the colored streak that usually accompanied Boomer when he flew. The whole structure had very science fiction-like connotations, reminding Blossom of the space ships on the sci-fi films the Professor had been so fond of. Hell, Blossom's whole life had been like a sci-fi movie; even more so now with the Narcassians controlling the world.<p>

"Are we there yet?" Arturo groaned from Big Billy's shoulder, using the other man's head as an armrest.

"For the love of…NO! We are _not_ there yet!" Buttercup shouted from the roof of one of the trucks. She twisted around, moving her legs out of the Indian style way she had been sitting in. "That is the fifty-sixth time you've said that!"

"Eighty-second," Boomer corrected, wincing slightly at the glare Buttercup threw at him. "But who's counting?"

"Apparently you are," Mitch intervened, driving between the truck Buttercup was perched on and Boomer. "But ignoring that-." He paused and turned slightly to throw a glare at the Gangreen gang. "We still have quite a few hours to go before we reach the base, so get comfy, amigo."

This received a string of Spanish profanities that no one, save Carlos and the few people who took Spanish, understood. Said rebel then responded in kind and a heated argument ensued between the two men. This served to be the soundtrack for the next how many minutes and Buttercup just snorted, turning back around. Everyone else took a page from her book and ignored them as well, though Blossom was rubbing her head in pain as the two Hispanic men's thoughts entered her mind.

"You okay, Bloss?" Mitch called to the pink puff, who was sitting on the roof next to Buttercup.

The red haired woman smiled weakly at Mitch and nodded, though she was still holding her head. Ignoring the suspicious look from Boomer and Buttercup, as well as the flare of concern from her sister, Blossom closed her eyes and just gently rubbed her temples, letting her mind empty. She knew that it was probably dangerous trying to remember things while on top of a truck, albeit a slow-moving truck, but a truck nonetheless, but she just wanted to be able to answer whatever questions Brick would throw at her. Despite the throbbing headache she had, which was not helped by the flood of angry thoughts (that were in Spanish, which was even more aggravating) from Carlos and Arturo, she forged on, receiving a tremendous amount of resistance.

Blossom decided that having amnesia would not be on her Top Ten Favorite Experiences list.

She knew that forcing herself to remember wouldn't help, but Blossom would admit to herself that she could be rather impatient at times. And it wasn't as if she was completely blank on what have happened to her. The memories were _right there_, so close that if she only stretched a little, only thought harder, maybe, just maybe, she could reach them. They were blurry and unclear, but they were so close. She had remembered a few things over the three weeks she had been free from the aliens, but half of those things hadn't been of importance. What did the Resistance care if the aliens took good care of her? What did it matter what kind of food they fed her? Blossom was sure that these things would be relevant, but at the moment, she didn't think Brick would care.

She didn't know how much time had passed, but she knew that Carlos and Arturo were still arguing and waves of irritation were coming from, and off, Buttercup like miniature tsunamis. From the annoyed thoughts coming from him, Blossom was pretty sure that Boomer wasn't amused anymore either. Cupping her neck as she leaned forward, the pink-eyed girl wondered who would snap first. A part of her was sure it was going to be Buttercup, but another part thought it would be funny to see Boomer snap at them. Blossom hid the amused smile that appeared on her face. Since when did she have a humor like Buttercup? Blossom glanced over to see if Boomer had the same irritated expression as said sister, only to gasp.

The military officer was nowhere to be seen.

Hiding her confusion and surprise, Blossom cautiously looked around, trying to spot the blue ruff. Despite her efforts, she found neither hide nor hair of him. Now thoroughly scared, the redhead became a little more frantic in her search for the blonde.

"You okay there, red?" Buttercup asked finally noticing Blossom's actions.

"Huh? Oh, uh, yeah. I'm all right." The pink puff blushed lightly at being found out. However, her embarrassment was short-lived as she continued glancing about. Where had Boomer gone?

A sharp yelp from behind her was the answer she was looking for.

Turning to see why Arturo was whimpering, Blossom found Boomer floating above the two Gangreen members. The blue ruff looked extremely unpleased, but was sporting a maliciously amused grin. Without a word to the small man, he returned to his post leading the Resistance soldiers. The nonchalance he oozed was marred by the wide grin he wore that had Blossom remembering the times when they had been younger and the Rowdyruff Boys had just vandalized or stole something. They always had those large, near-psychotic grins on their faces afterwards.

"I thought you Resistance guys were supposed to be all prim and proper," Mitch remarked as Buttercup snorted in agreement.

"Do you remember who you're talking to?" Boomer responded, raising an eyebrow. "I'm an ex-Rowdyruff."

Blossom was glad to see she wasn't the only one who was bewildered about that. From the frowns on both Buttercup's and Mitch's faces, they too found the use of ex with Rowdyruff strange. Tightening her jaw, Blossom looked forward. No matter what Boomer said, he would always be a Rowdyruff Boy to her. They would all be Rowdyruffs…because, because that's what they were. It was strange if they were anything else, like it was strange if she and her sisters were anything besides the Powerpuff Girls. A leaden feeling formed in her stomach and Blossom sighed, softly. She still didn't know whether or not Buttercup and Bubbles still considered themselves Powerpuffs.

"Hey…I just remembered," Harry said, causing both Blossom and Buttercup to look down at the truck. "Isn't there a scanner before the base?"

Cursing colorfully, Buttercup slapped her forehead, letting her hand slide over her eyes. "That's right! Shit! What are we going to do about that?"

"Scanner?" Blossom was confused as to what they were referring. She looked at Buttercup and then to Boomer who made a weird noise in his throat.

"It's a device set up before the gate to the base that, well, scans everyone and sends data on them to the techies," Boomer explained, eyebrows furrowed in thought. "There goes keeping Blossom a secret until I can explain everything to Brick."

Even Buttercup was surprised at that comment. "You were going to keep Blossom a secret?"

This received an 'are-you-stupid' look from Boomer. "Only for a brief time, just until I could explain what I know to Brick. You _do_ remember that Brick and Blossom were _never_ civil with each other, right?"

"That's a nice way of saying with we tried to rip each other's throats out," Blossom remarked blandly, but she was sighing a moment later. "Great. Another unforeseen obstacle."

* * *

><p>Looking back, the Professor would realize that he had planned the inspection for the Scanning Room at the perfect time.<p>

But, back to the present, the Professor was currently tinkering with one of the machines. The scanning process had been remarkably slow as of late and he was certain that the update he and Mojo had managed to create would definitely help. He had already added it to the other machines and was currently working on adding it to the computer before him when a beep alerted him that a scanning process was beginning. Cursing to himself, Professor Utonium quickly finished installing the new device and pulled up a list of the people being scanned. It was then when both the computer and the device on his belt gave sharp chirps. Eyes widening at the profile in front of him, he looked at his version of a computer tablet to see an identical image. He knew he had made a special attachment to the scanning program to alert him if she ever came through, but he hadn't expected it to actually work.

The Professor then deleted the profile from the main scanning machine and hurried out of the room. He needed to get to the gate. Fast. But how could he make it there? Glancing around, the man's eyes alighted on the hover scooter of one of the Scanning Room's techies. He grabbed it without hesitation and, jumping onto it, sped off.

"Sorry!" he called over his shoulder as the techie who owned the scooter shouted in protest. "I'll bring it back!"

He really, really, _really_ needed to get to the gate before anyone else.

Zipping down the halls, the Professor nearly crashed into Brick. Swerving at the last moment, he called another apology over his shoulder at the rather confused redhead. He didn't have time to talk to Brick. And besides, if Brick found out that Boomer was returning already and _she_ was with him…the Professor shuddered helplessly, remembering how ruthlessly the red-eyed man had beaten one of his precious little girls. Even though Brick was almost a son to him, there was no way Professor Utonium was going to allow Brick to get to his baby before him.

* * *

><p>Rewinding the clock a few minutes, the rebels and Boomer's unit had finally reached the tunnel that lead to the gate of the Townsville branch of the Resistance. After the whole conversation about the scanner, Blossom was antsy, squirming in her seat and rubbing her clammy palms against her denim-clad legs. It wasn't how she expected to be found out, through a device used to scan for enemies, but it was better than the flamboyant entrance that she imagined, which in itself was influenced by the entrance Buttercup imagined. She wasn't sure why she was nervous. Hadn't she wanted to show herself to the Resistance just the other day? But not like this. Not through an inanimate object with no feeling whatsoever.<p>

Sighing softly, Blossom almost missed Harry's remark of, "Well, that was painless."

Now thoroughly confused, Blossom looked around and, turning to look behind her, saw a sparkling, translucent wall of blue that was definitely not there before. Mouth opening in shock, she could only make useless noises as she tried to voice her shock. An amused snort came from her right, causing her to flush brightly and turn back around.

"Everyone reacts the same way the first time…" Boomer muttered and Blossom sent him an annoyed leer. From the Gangreen's and assorted rebels' gasps, Blossom, thankfully, wasn't the only one surprised.

"Well…time to face the dragon," Buttercup muttered darkly and Blossom knew exactly who she was referring to.

By this time, the door, if door was the correct word for the large edifice in front of her, was just feet from them. Taking calming breaths, Blossom found her heart beating erratically in her chest. She didn't know what she was more nervous about: facing all those people she had known and those who she hadn't or facing Brick and the other villains. And then…and then there was the image of the Professor appearing in her mind and again the tears sprang to her eyes. She wanted to see her father.

"Blossom?" Buttercup murmured softly, gently touching her sister's trembling hand. "You okay?"

"Yeah…I…I just want to see dad," the red-haired woman responded just as softly, if not more so, her voice cracking. Buttercup gently squeezed Blossom's hand and dropped it a moment later as someone slipped through the gate.

It was safe to say that the person standing there was definitely not who they were expecting.

The Professor closed the door, pressing his hand to it, before turning around. He looked over the shocked faces of the rebels and Resistance alike until his eyes finally landed on _her_. His mouth went dry and his eyes became watery as he took in the image of a young woman who, had he not seen the image on the computer, he might have not recognized. But the Professor knew as soon as he thought that that he would have recognized Blossom even if he hadn't seen her picture. The knot in his chest tightened and the Professor brought up a hand to cover his mouth. Taking a few steps forward and letting his hand drop to his side, the man stared at his "eldest" daughter as if she was a dream.

"Blossom?" he murmured and the next moment there was a streak of pink and Blossom was tackling her father in a tight hug.

"Professor!" she cried, tears streaming down her face. "Oh, Professor!"

The Professor returned her hug, clutching her tightly to himself. "Oh God…Blossom. Oh God. Look at you." He pulled back and looked at the young woman in front of him. "You're all grown up…and…" More tears came as he realized that he hadn't been there to watch he grow like he had planned. "Oh Blossom."

Blossom, unintentionally reading the Professor's sad thoughts, looked at her father just as sadly. "I missed you." She wasn't sure if she missed anyone, actually, but it felt right saying it anyway. "Oh, _dad_." She then hugged him again as Boomer and Buttercup approached the two.

The Professor looked to see the two and, pulling Buttercup into the hug as well, told Boomer, "You have impeccable timing. I was inspecting the Scanning Room when you came through. No one has seen that Blossom was with you."

Boomer looked surprised, blue eyes wide. "Seriously? So that means…"

"Brick doesn't know?" Buttercup finished, wiggling out of the hug. Blossom looked up at her father figure who nodded. "WAHOO! Awesome! That means we can still sneak Blossom in!"

This received three disbelieving stares and multiple confused ones from the other rebels and Resistance soldiers. Buttercup's excitement at hiding Blossom wasn't exactly new, but it still wasn't precisely the best thing. Especially when it was in reference to one rather paranoid Resistance officer.

The Professor frowned at Buttercup. "As much as I don't relish experiencing the reaction I _know_ Brick will have, we have to tell him and the Resistance."

Buttercup immediately lowered her arms and fought back a pout. "Why does everyone keep reminding me about that? I _knoooooow_."

Laughing at her sister's attitude, Blossom finally pulled away from the Professor's embrace. She was feeling much happier now that she had the Professor. Seeing him made her think that everything would be all right, despite whatever would happen with Brick.

"We wouldn't keep bringing it up if you acted like you remembered," she responded, smiling warmly at her sister.

The Professor smiled indulgently as Buttercup snorted at Blossom before a deep sigh escaped him. "As much as I enjoy this…" He turned to Boomer, a very serious look on his face. "When you enter through there, take Buttercup and Blossom to the clothing department and get clothes for Blossom. When that's done, come to my lab."

"Yessir," Boomer said, saluting the scientist. He paused, though, digesting what was just said to him. "…why are they going to your lab?"

Professor Utonium raised an eyebrow at Boomer. "It's mandatory for any and all superhumans to have a medical exam the first day they come. And also!" He turned to Buttercup. "Find a hoodie or jacket to cover Blossom up. We don't want anyone to learn about her before the conference."

"Conference?" the three super-powered young adults echoed, clearly confused.

The Professor was already heading back to the door. "Yes! Conference! Where we'll unveil Blossom! I'll set it up!" And with that he disappeared through the door, leaving three still very confused superhumans.

"Wait…what just happened?" Buttercup asked, frowning.

Scratching his head, Boomer sighed, frowning at the door. "Not a clue." He turned to the two women next to him. "Let's get a hoodie for Blossom before we do anything, though."

Narrowing her eyes at being ordered around by _Boomer_, the green puff turned to the stalled people behind her. "YO! Mitch! Get me a hoodie for Blossom! Something big!"

A moment later, after rummaging through the bags, Mitch came over with a large, dark blue hooded sweatshirt. Handing it off to Buttercup, the brown-haired man looked at her expectantly. Everyone had seen the little show that had occurred when Blossom saw the Professor. While none of them had quite heard what they had said, they had heard the Professor call to Boomer and Buttercup about a conference. While not privy to all that had transpired, Mitch was pretty sure he knew what the conference was going to be for.

"All right, so what's going on?" he asked as Blossom pulled on the hoodie.

Buttercup crossed her arms and looked over Blossom before responding. "Boomer's taking me and Blossom to get her clothes and then to the Professor's lab. I'm not sure what you guys'll be doing."

In response to that, Boomer waved over one of the soldiers. "Jackson here will take care of them," he said, turning to the group of people. "This is an order to all of you! Do _not_ mention Blossom to _anyone_. And also, soldiers, get Emmons to the Professor's lab. Tell no one why he is encased in ice." This received a sonorous "Sir, yes, sir" to which Boomer nodded most satisfied. After that, he turned to Buttercup. "And now let's head to the clothing department."

Fixing her hood so that it didn't obscure her vision, Blossom followed after the blonde-haired young man with a grumbling Buttercup following after saying a few things to Mitch. Feeling her throat tighten as they approached the door, the redhead found herself again taking deep, calming breaths. She was just going to walk through a door. There was nothing wrong about walking through a door. Plenty of people walked through doors; _most_ people walked through doors. (Blossom then remembered that she and her sisters and the Boys, if she thought about it, had had a weird thing against doors when they were little. They rarely used them and instead burst through the ceiling or the wall, but I digress.)

Boomer opened the rather large door and held it open for the two Powerpuffs. Nodding her thanks, Blossom gulped and stepped through.

Into the Resistance.

X-x-x

So, I was only going to do one recommendation for **megmeg999**, but all of her oneshots are amazing, so check out all of them not just that one! (**Oneshot: A Taste of Karma**, **Oneshot: One Too Many Drinks**, **Oneshot: Midnight Visits**, and **Oneshot: AceMazing Surprises**.) Also, please leave a review! They help me write!


	6. The Resistance

**Storm**

_There is no trivia for this chapter._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 5: The Resistance<strong>

The journey to the clothing department took shorter than Blossom thought, despite how large the Resistance base was. Of course, if anyone asked her what the route was they took, she would have just stared blankly at them with a sheepish smile. Saying that Boomer took a confusing course was putting it lightly. After the seventh turn, Blossom had given up trying to remember what way they had gone. She was impressed that Boomer had actually managed to remember the way, seeing as he hadn't been the sharpest tool in the shed back when they were younger. The route they took was long and winding and though most of the halls were straight, many were connected to larger rooms that gave the underground headquarters a rabbit warren-esque feel.

"Clothing department? It sounds like this place is a mall," Buttercup remarked as Boomer led them through a pair of automated doors. "…make that a warehouse…"

Warehouse was an adequate description for the clothing department. There were rows and stacks of containers full of attire as far as the eye could see. Large signs denoted where everything was and what sections belonged to what age and gender group. Everything had a very industrial feel to it, making it very organized and rather impersonal. Blossom glanced around at the dark gray and silver containers with interest as Boomer lead them through the rows. Buttercup looked bored as hell, Blossom noticed, and maybe even a little uncomfortable. It probably reminded her of clothes shopping and God knows how the green-eyed woman _hated_ clothes shopping.

While Blossom felt almost like Alice as she followed Boomer through the rows, she was at least able to remember her way this time. But where Boomer was exactly taking her and Buttercup, she was not sure. They had already past three people, all of which looked shocked and curious about the two people the blue ruff had in tow. It soon became apparent that Boomer was looking for someone specific as they passed two more people dressed in gray-blue uniforms. Frowning in confusion, Blossom's eyes bore into the back of Boomer's skull as he finally stopped in front of a stooped woman. Buttercup and Blossom looked at each other and then towards the woman as Boomer cleared his throat.

"Oh! Oh, Boomer! You scared me!" the woman remarked, holding a hand over her thumping heart. (The three superhumans could hear it rather clearly, despite the music echoing from some music player in the front of the department.) "What is it you need, dear?"

"What…Ms. Keane?" Buttercup exclaimed for the woman smiling at the three was indeed their old kindergarten teacher. "What-What are _you_ doing here?"

Ms. Keane clearly looked just as shocked to see her. "I could ask you the same thing, Buttercup!" she responded, blinking her bright blue eyes owlishly. "Why are you here at the Resistance?"

Mouth opening and closing uselessly, Buttercup fought to collect her thoughts. Finally shaking her head, the green-eyed woman responded, "Well, you see…a-about that…uh…"

Boomer made a noise in his throat and, gently taking her by the arm, pulled Ms. Keane into a more deserted section of the department. The two puffs followed loyally behind him, more out of lack of knowledge of what to do than anything else. Once Boomer made sure that no one was around, glancing about to double check his assumption, he then turned to Blossom. Tugging the young woman in between him and Ms. Keane, he used his body to block the end of the aisle, making a sort of shield for the red-haired young woman.

"_She's_ the reason Buttercup is here," he said, pulling back Blossom's hood.

It was safe to say that Ms. Keane was shocked.

The fact that she had fainted just added to that certainty.

"Oh my God! Ms. Keane!" Blossom instantly dove to the woman's side, Buttercup and Boomer right after her. "Ms. Keane! Ms. Keane!"

"Wha-What?" The older woman blinked blearily, holding her head as Boomer helped her sit up. "Ohhh…I thought…I thought that…"

Blue eyes met rose and Ms. Keane's mouth dropped open. She unabashedly stared at Blossom, one hand reaching out shakily. The moment her fingers met the soft skin of Blossom's face, tears pooled in Ms. Keane's eyes and she covered her mouth. In response to her reaction, Blossom smiled lovingly, enjoying the warm feeling in her chest. If Ms. Bellum had been Blossom's ideal for a businesswoman and female leader, then Ms. Keane had been her ideal for a mother and caretaker. Seeing the blue-eyed, raven-haired (though Blossom noticed that she had a little gray now) woman made that warm feeling grow into something Blossom hadn't felt in a long time. The familiar feeling had the same familial connotations as that fuzzy feeling that she got when she first saw Buttercup and the Professor.

"Hi, Ms. Keane," Blossom murmured, stilling smiling at her warmly.

"Blossom needs clothes," Buttercup explained as Ms. Keane continued staring at her redheaded sister.

"Clothes…yes, right," their old teacher said, nodding as Boomer carefully helped her up. "Thank you, Boomer. Right. So…" She blinked rapidly at Blossom, tilting her head in curiosity. "Do you know your sizes?"

A blush formed on Blossom's cheeks as she shook her head "no". Frowning, but seemingly unsurprised, Ms. Keane took her hand and lead her away from the aisle. Pulling her hood over her head, Blossom followed behind obediently, letting her former teacher take her wherever. They passed a few more aisles until they came to a door, which was the typical silvery color with blue lining. The blue-eyed woman waved her hand over the circular blue motion sensor and the doors swished open with a soft, pneumatic hiss. Gently pushing Blossom into the room, Ms. Keane turned to the two other superhumans who had attempted to follow her.

"Unless you're going to help me with measuring which, if you've forgotten, I don't need, I'd like it if you two stayed here," she said with a chastising tone. She was holding up one finger and the look on her face was enough to even make Buttercup pause indecisively.

Pouting uncharacteristically, said green-eyed woman huffed and crossed her arms, settling against a random clothes container. Boomer followed suit, though he instead stuffed his hands in his pockets as he leaned against the tub nonchalantly. Honestly, it was like she told them that they couldn't play with a puppy with the way they were acting. Eyes narrowed at the two, Ms. Keane then slipped into the room, closing the door securely behind her. She stared at the door for a moment, before taking a breath and turning around. Seeing Blossom made tears yet again enter her eyes. Smiling at the young woman in front of her, the former kindergarten teacher pulled a tape measure off a shelf.

"Shall we begin?" she asked, smiling warmly.

The deft fingers of Ms. Keane worked quickly with the tape and she wrote down every measurement as soon as she found it. Despite trying to act as if she was unaffected, a warm blush was covering Blossom's cheeks as the older woman took her measurements. She wasn't embarrassed because it was Ms. Keane measuring her; it was more so she was embarrassed because of the mere fact she didn't have the slightest inkling as to why Ms. Keane was taking certain measurements. Like the inside of her leg; why did _that_ need to be measured? And then, of course, to her sheer embarrassment, Ms. Keane had to ask about her chest size.

Flushing vividly, Blossom shuffled nervously, before shyly shaking her head to pass along that she had _no_ idea what her breast size was. When she was twelve, she was just making the transition from camisoles to real brassieres and her breasts hadn't fully developed yet. And seeing as that's where the clearest of her memories ended, Blossom wasn't sure what size bra she would need. Glancing down at the large hoodie and the baggy shirt she wore under it, she couldn't help her mind going to the voluptuous form of her "younger" sister. As if sensing her distress, Ms. Keane smiled indulgently at the girl.

"You've grown into such a beautiful young woman, Blossom," she remarked. She then motioned to her sweatshirt. "I'll get a better measurement if you remove your hoodie."

Glancing worriedly at the door, Blossom removed the dark blue sweatshirt. Smiling encouragingly at her, Ms. Keane then looped the measuring tape around the redhead's torso. The redhead tried to best not to squirm in embarrassment, looking stubbornly at the ceiling above her. A moment later Ms. Keane was recording the measurement as Blossom pulled the hoodie back on.

"Well, shall we get you some clothes now?" Ms. Keane asked, still smiling widely. She paused at the door, turning to look at Blossom lovingly. "You know…I still don't know whether this is a dream or not…"

Blossom paused in fixing her hood and turned to her former teacher. "It's not a dream, Ms. Keane," she answered. "And…and please don't mention me to anyone…not…not yet at least, please."

Frowning in confusion, but knowing that Blossom must have a good reason, the other woman consented, despite the maternal need to know everything about the girl in front of her. Smiling to herself, Ms. Keane couldn't help her mind going back to those times when all three Powerpuff Girls came to her for advice. Now, it was only Bubbles and even then, Ms. Keane was usually the last person she came to. The blonde didn't often need advice from Ms. Keane anymore. Letting out a melancholy sigh, the raven-haired woman began leading the three super-powered adults through the aisles of the clothing department, pointing out containers full of clothes that would fit Blossom.

After picking out what she wanted (and what pieces Buttercup wanted her to wear), Blossom added to clothes to the small bin that Ms. Keane had somewhere picked up. (Her observation skills were somewhat lacking as of late and this worried Blossom.) Looking at the bin, she noted that she hadn't picked out a lot of clothing; from the frown on Buttercup's face, this fact hadn't escaped her sister either. But for whatever reason, Blossom was happy with that amount of clothing. As she turned to Boomer to announce that they could leave, she caught a stray thought of Buttercup's and, narrowing her eyes, whorled around to face her sister.

"Buttercup," she warned softly, completely unconvinced by Buttercup's attempt to look innocent. "I _know_ what you're thinking."

While Boomer rolled his eyes at that, Buttercup just grinned widely. "That you do."

Nose wrinkling at the thought thrown at her, Blossom huffed, grumbling out a disgusted, "That's vulgar."

"I love you~," the green puff sang, draping her arm over Blossom's shoulder, oblivious to the confused Ms. Keane and unimpressed Boomer. Blossom shoved her away, smiling a half-heartedly.

"I know, I know," she responded. Turning her attention to Boomer, she noted that the Resistance officer looked impassive and wondered briefly how much Bubbles had changed if _Boomer_ was acting so emotionless. "We can leave now."

The blonde responded with a half shrug and, after saying a quick goodbye to Ms. Keane, headed towards the exit. Buttercup followed after him, also giving the woman a goodbye. That left Blossom and, acting impulsively, she threw her arms around Ms. Keane. This startled the shorter woman, but she returned the hug nonetheless. Blossom stood there for a moment, just enjoying the warmth that Ms. Keane seemed to cause in her. She closed her eyes, letting her mind go back to those times that seemed so long ago. But now wasn't time to dwell on what had been and what should be. Pulling back first, Blossom gave her former teacher a watery smile, still enjoying the warm feeling in her chest.

"I'll send your clothes to your room later, all right?" Ms. Keane told her, smiling.

"Thank you," Blossom responded, feeling happy at the prospect of having her own clothes. The rebels practically shared everything, thus why they only have two pickup trucks of belongings. "Bye!"

She then left, hurrying to where Boomer and Buttercup were waiting. Saying a quick apology that was pretty much ignored on one part, the trio was soon weaving through the hallways again. Though she had no idea where the Professor's lab was, Blossom made note of certain landmarks and other unique features in the halls. From her limited exposure to it, Blossom could tell that the Resistance was hi-tech and very futuristic (or as futuristic as her limited memories let her think). There were quite a few soldiers walking around, which she wasn't exactly surprised to see, but there seemed to be almost as many plainclothes people as well. And that did surprise her, if only a little bit. If those normal clothed people were actually soldiers, she wasn't sure. The temptation to look into their minds was there, very, very much there, but she was able to hold back on it. She then noticed that despite being unsure on how to use her telepathy, she had particularly good control over it.

"There you are."

Whipping her head around at the voice, Blossom absentmindedly rubbed her neck, despite her not getting whiplash. A young woman was walking towards them, her gorgeous blonde hair tied up in a professional looking bun on the back of her head. Her dark blue military uniform was immaculate and she was holding a computer tablet in her right hand. As the woman walked closer, Blossom noticed that Boomer had stiffened at the sound of the woman's voice. She glanced at him curiously as she fixed her hood. It would not due to have someone realize who she was before this conference the Professor was planning.

"Bubbles," Boomer responded, his voice remarkably cool.

"_Bubbles,"_ Blossom thought, looking at her "youngest" sister with blatant longing. She felt her heart constrict painfully as Bubbles merely glanced at her before staring unabashedly at Buttercup.

"And _what_ are _you_ doing here?" Bubbles snapped and Blossom was startled at the sheer steel of her voice. Buttercup stiffened at that and her eyes narrowed into lime slits.

"I decided to join the Resistance," the raven-haired sister responded, scowling. Bubbles raised an eyebrow in surprise, eyes widening ever so slightly. "What? Don't want your big sister embarrassing you?"

Eyes narrowed into icy blue slits, Bubbles curled her lip at her sister. "You are _not_ my big sister. You lost that title a long time ago." Without waiting for a response, she turned to Boomer. "Brick wants to see you ASAP."

"Let me get these two to your dad's and I'll be right there," Boomer said and, looking at his face, Blossom saw the barest hint of longing on it. Nodding curtly, Bubbles then turned sharply, continuing to ignore Buttercup as said woman made faces at her, and walked away. The look of longing was ridiculously clear now and Blossom felt her heart go out to the young man next to her.

"Boomer," she murmured, gently touching his arm. The blue-eyed man flinched at her touch and yanked his arm away.

Staring at Blossom with wide eyes that told her everything without the need of telepathy, Boomer abruptly turned away and continued down the hallway. Despite him once being her enemy, Blossom found herself wishing she could do something for him. Without turning, the young man said, "Let's go."

They continued in a half-silence as all, but Buttercup who was grumbling darkly, were quiet. Blossom wasn't sure how to react to this development. She had finally seen her "littlest" sister…and the girl who had been the sweetest, most cheerful little girl was now a steely cold woman. Tears beaded in her eyes and the "Commander and Leader" clenched her hands into fists. How could this happen? Glancing back at Buttercup, the redheaded leader felt the ludicrous desire to blame her. If Buttercup hadn't said…whatever to Bubbles, Bubbles wouldn't be this cold. If Buttercup hadn't made the rebels and had been a Resistance officer, Bubbles wouldn't be that emotionless being. Biting her lip, Blossom scolded herself for being so hard on Buttercup. Who she really should be blaming was herself.

If _she_ hadn't been so careless, none of this would have happened. If _she_ had fought against Aterex, maybe her sisters would have realized what was happening. And then none of this would have happened. Blossom would be part of the Resistance with her siblings and _she_ would be the leader that everyone trusted. Eyes widening, Blossom wondered how her self-chastising rant had become one of jealousy. Closing her eyes and gently shaking her head, the pink puff looked down at her shoes in thought. She never realized that she had this hidden jealousy over the fact that Brick was a head officer. She knew she had acted surprised, but had she really been jealous this whole time?

"Oh, Boomer! Brick wants to see you!" Blossom looked up as some soldier called out to the blue ruff. Waving absent-mindedly at the soldier, Boomer continued walking.

And then the same thing happened again.

By the time they had reached the lab, Boomer's teeth were gritted tightly and his eyes were glowing lightly. He had been told nearly five times after Bubbles had told him that Brick needed to talk to him. It was clear to both Blossom and Buttercup that Boomer was less than amused. He had seemed down after talking to Bubbles, but after being repeatedly told that his "eldest" brother wanted to see him, the blue ruff's mood had just become increasingly low. Now, the blonde-haired man was near trembling in annoyance as he punched in the code to enter the lab.

Shifting awkwardly behind him, Blossom tried looking anywhere else but the blue ruff, eyes dropping to the ground, to Buttercup, to the ceiling. She kept slipping into his mind, where very graphic images of murderous intent were playing like a bad movie marathon. It wasn't her fault that she kept doing it either. His thoughts were raging, their angry, red depths invading her mind by the sheer loudness of them. He was annoyed at everyone. He was angry at Brick. He was angry at Blossom. He wanted to be angry at Bubbles. And he was angry at himself for these feelings he oppressed. Blossom closed her eyes, trying desperately to keep her mind apart from his. Dark thoughts always hurt her head. They were jagged and rough and cruel and bad, bad memories bubbled up from the familiar feeling.

Shaking her head, the pink-eyed woman toyed with the zipper on her sweatshirt. She didn't want to see those memories. The recognizable feeling they had…the blurry, dark contents…they all screamed something at her that she just was unwilling to hear. They revolved around something that she didn't want to relive…something that made her tremble. Closing her eyes tightly, she took a deep breath. She was strong, not weak. No matter what that infuriating memory her mind kept bringing up said. _She was not weak._ She was not-. A ridiculously cheerful beep interrupted Blossom's thoughts and the young woman looked up as the automated door zoomed open.

"Oh! There you are!" the Professor greeted, grinning widely as they walked up to him. "Everything go well?"

"Yes," Blossom answered, trying to resist the urge to glance around the lab. She had always been fascinated by the Professor's work and had loved helping him out in his lab. Refocusing on the Professor, she barely noticed Boomer turn to walk away.

The Professor noticed as well and, lifting a hand, called out to him, "Oh! Boomer!"

And that was the straw that broke the camel's back.

Throwing his arms into the air, Boomer whorled around and glared fiercely at the older man, his eyes aglow with blue light. "I _know_! Brick needs to see me! HOW MANY TIMES DO YOU PEOPLE NEED TO TELL ME THAT?"

Startled, the Professor flinched and Buttercup instinctively took a defensive position in front of him. Blossom herself had also inched in front of her father and, watching Boomer's expression, saw quite a few emotions flit across that handsome face. Amongst those emotions, anger and shock were the most clear. Obviously, he himself hadn't expected the shout to leave his mouth. After a moment, said man's muscles relaxed and, shoulders drooping, he ran a hand over his face. He took deep, even breaths to calm himself.

"I'm sorry," he murmured lowly, so low, in fact, that, had Buttercup and Blossom not had super-hearing, they would have not heard it.

"Whatever," Buttercup muttered, crossing her arms, as the Professor fixed his tie.

Clearing his throat, the dark-haired man looked at Boomer with a rather fatherly expression. "That's not what I was going to say," he said, smiling fondly at the young man. "I was going to say thank you."

Blinking at that, the blonde man flushed in embarrassment. "Oh…well, you're welcome…"

There was a pregnant pause before Boomer turned mechanically and exited the lab. The silence persisted as the three Utoniums glanced at each other. Shuffling awkwardly and clearing his throat again, the Professor ushered the two women deeper into the lab.

"So, right. Medical examinations," the Professor babbled, tapping randomly onto his tablet computer. He frowned a little and then looked up, turning his head. "Elmer! Come here!"

They stood there for a few moments before a breathless, bespectacled young man rushed over. He paused, catching his breath, and pulled out an inhaler, taking multiple puffs from it. Looking up, the man fixed his glasses and Blossom was astounded to see that it was indeed Elmer Sglue from her class. Opening her mouth to voice her surprise, she bit her tongue in her haste to close said offending body part. She still didn't know what the Professor exactly had planned and, though she was certain that Elmer wouldn't run for the door if she said anything, she was still reluctant to say anything. Biting her lip, Blossom wondered when she had become so hesitant. And it wasn't caution, this feeling she had. It was pure hesitation.

"Y-You called, P-Professor Utonium?" Elmer gasped, still taking deep breaths.

The Professor smiled warmly at the young man and then gestured to Buttercup. "Yes, Elmer. Do you think you could do Buttercup's examination?"

"Say what now?" Buttercup turned to her father, her mouth opening wide. Elmer's face looked rather red and Blossom was pretty sure that it wasn't just from the exertion of running across the laboratory. "I'm sorry, what?" her sister reiterated, now starting to look rather angry.

Turning to her, the Professor gave Buttercup a meaningful look. "You want _me_ to do a checkup on _your friend_, right Buttercup? So, Elmer will do your exam to save time, okay?"

Pouting, the green puff looked to Blossom, appealing to her. However, said redhead was already walking away with the Professor. Jaw dropping open, Buttercup just stared at their backs with a mixture of shock and indignation on her face. After a moment or two, she finally noticed shuffling from next to her and turned, leering at a nervous Elmer.

Blossom winced when she heard the panicked squeak from Elmer. If she remembered correctly, and Blossom certainly hoped she did, Buttercup had always been a little tough on poor Elmer. Then again, Elmer had had that puppy dog crush on the green sister ever since that time she apologized to him. Shaking her head, Blossom wondered briefly if he was a masochist. He'd certainly seemed like a glutton for punishment with the way he always chased after Buttercup, no matter how often she said to beat it. Again shaking her head, Blossom smiled a little. Why did that amuse her so? She was then led behind a curtain and immediately took a seat on the bed that was there, pulling her hood off.

"So…it's been…awhile since your last checkup," the Professor said, tearing up again. Smiling warmly, Blossom reached out and took his hand into hers. Rubbing his eyes, her father took a moment to collect himself. "Right. Okay. So, I guess we'll get the basics out of the way and then move onto examining your powers."

"All right." Nodding in consent, Blossom then prepared to put on the medical gown. The Professor, thankfully, turned to give her privacy and, as she pulled on the papery dress, she couldn't help her mind going back to the markings on her back. He would see them and she still didn't know where they came from. Clutching the gown tightly, she pressed her lips into a tight line. That still bothered her, how she had no idea why she had been marked. It was something to do with Aterex, but that's really all she could recall. That and the color red.

"All right. This'll be like a normal checkup," Professor Utonium said and Blossom obediently sat on the bed.

The examination went smoothly, which Blossom was grateful for. From the random indignant shouts of Buttercup, she could only guess that she and Elmer were having a little bit of trouble. Which really shouldn't surprise her, in all honesty. Shaking her head, Blossom sat up on the bed as instructed and flinched when the coldness of a stethoscope hit her skin. Of course, she knew she was supposed to be taking deep breaths and she did so, only she did it, not because she was instructed, but to calm her rapidly beating heart. The Professor's hand suddenly became shaking and Blossom knew instantly what had happened.

He gasped.

He had seen those marks.

"B-Blossom…" His voice was hushed and she felt her nails dig into her palms as she waited for him to speak again. "These…" His fingers shook as he pulled the gown open a little more, pushing up her camisole to see more of the markings. "What…_are_ these…?"

"Markings," she answered, holding her arms. "I…I don't remember…why I have them…" She didn't want to mention that she knew Aterex played a heavy role in why she had them, but she was unwilling to divulge that part. "Please don't tell anyone about them, Professor. Please."

She could feel the Professor trembling and, for the second time that day, was assaulted by bitter, angry thoughts. Her father was angry that all this happened to his little girl. That she had to go through all this alone. Blossom felt tears well in her eyes. It made her weirdly happy that her father was getting to righteously angry over those confusing marks are her back. She didn't remember getting happy like this before. It was nice. The Professor trusted her despite her being gone for so long. Her father ran his fingers over her marks before sighing softly.

"Very well," he murmured. Blossom turned to smile at him and was greeted by a sad smile. "Why don't you get dressed and then we'll run the tests on your powers?"

The Professor left then, probably to prepare whatever for the tests. Sighing softly, the redhead ran her hand over her face. He had taken the markings without too much anger and that was good. And he was taking her return well too. From that one time she had entered his mind, Blossom knew he was unsure on how to take her appearance, despite the deep happiness he had at seeing her. That made her happy.

If the Professor had willingly accepted her without a doubt like Buttercup had, she would have been disappointed. She knew the Professor was her father and that he would love her despite she did, but he was also an extremely intelligent man and common sense told you to not trust someone completely until they earned that trust. (When Buttercup's trust was gained, it was gained, regardless of what happened. Unless you did something extremely horrendous, then you could count on her.)

Now fully dressed, Blossom walked out from behind the curtain, finding Buttercup already being examined for her powers. She was in a training simulator that the pink puff had not noticed before and was flying at a great speed. Elmer was dutifully recording it and there was beep as a light green number appeared on a screen by his elbow. Looking curiously at it, Blossom didn't notice the Professor appear at her elbow. She jumped when he touched her shoulder and, turning to look at him, she noticed that he had his attention on his tablet computer. Curiosity taking over, she also looked at it, seeing the same screen by Elmer mirrored on the tablet. There were five colored names, each with numbers listed under them. She noticed that the light green name ("BUTTERCUP") had only three numbers, while the other four ("BRICK", "BUTCH", "BOOMER", and "BUBBLES") all had multiple.

"We've always known that Buttercup was the strongest of you girls, but she's on par with Boomer and nearly as strong as Butch and Brick," the Professor noted. "Of course that's in upper body strength. Her kicks are as strong as Butch's, which are just a smidge weaker than Brick's. And her speed is on par with Butch's normal speed. Of course, as they _are_ counterparts, I guess it's not that surprising."

As the Professor ranted about Buttercup's strengths, Blossom noticed that he made reference to most, if not all, of their secondary special abilities. (Or tertiary, in Bubbles' case.) Like how he said that Buttercup's speed was on par with Butch's _normal_ speed. Did that mean Butch had a speed based ability? And how Buttercup had good stamina for using her energy-based powers, but wasn't as good as Brick or Boomer. This information intrigued her, but despite her urge to ask all she could about it, she didn't. She was certain she would learn about those abilities sooner or later. The Professor, as he talked, had led her to what could only be described as a large target. It was black with red, blue, and yellow rings radiating from the central white dot.

Brows furrowed in confusion, Blossom turned to her father. "What…am I supposed to do?"

The Professor tapped a few things on his handheld before responding. "It's a device used to measure the strength of your punches and kicks." He looked up and then nodded. "We'll start with punches."

Blossom glanced furtively back at Elmer before shuffling awkwardly towards the target. The Professor caught on to her reluctance and smiled reassuringly. "It's fine. Elmer knows and has promised not to tell."

Still unsure, but trusting her father's judgment, she took a step forward, now standing directing in front of the target. Taking a breath, she pulled her arm back and threw a punch at the white circle, envisioning the smirking face a certain individual. There was a moment where Blossom let her fist stay on the dot until the Professor's tablet computer beeped. She relaxed her stance, turning to see the Professor looking over her result. He nodded to himself and, tapping something on the screen, he gestured for her to again attack the target. She obediently did, throwing a sharp kick to the center. There was an immediate beep this time and, upon returning to the Professor's side, noted that under the pink name ("BLOSSOM") there were two numbers, one of which was higher than all of the others.

"W-Well then…" The Professor looked stunned and he let himself stare at his pink-eyed daughter in surprise. "S-Shall we move on?"

Smiling, Blossom nodded. For the next few minutes, the Professor ran all kinds of tests on her powers. He told her the tests showed him everyone's strengths and weaknesses. Such as Brick was the slowest of the ruffs, but the most adept at flying. And Bubbles was the fastest of the Girls, but weakest in punches and endurance. It was an efficient way to select who would do best for what mission and Blossom wondered who had come up with it. It was maybe ten or so minutes later, as she stepped out of the training simulator, the Professor finally announced that they were finished with the tests.

"Finally!" Buttercup cried standing from where she had been seated. She floated over to Blossom, handing over the navy hoodie. "So…now what?"

Tapping away at his computer, the Professor looked up and smiled widely. It was safe to say the smile had a rather unhinged quality to it. Buttercup instinctively moved in front of Blossom, despite the redhead's rolling eyes. As much as she trusted and love her father, he just had _that_ look.

"Now we have the conference," the Professor said gleefully. He pretty much looked like a little kid about to receive a huge bowl of ice cream.

"Right…you never really divulged much on that," Buttercup responded, relaxing her protective stance and following him towards the door. Blossom fixed her hood and followed after them, Elmer on her heels.

Gesturing to the lab as he typed a code into the keypad by the door, the Professor said, "If you notice, only Elmer and I are in the lab. I've asked Brick to collect everyone in the cafeteria so I can announce that Blossom's back."

Butterflies instantly started dancing around Blossom's stomach at that and she rushed to the Professor's side. They were going to announce her presence to _everyone_? Gulping dryly, the pink puff reached out, grabbing Buttercup's hand in a death grip. She was not used to feeling nervous. She was the Powerpuff Leader. Nervousness led to an inability to perform heroic deeds well. But the thought of telling everyone she was back and where she'd been positively frightened her. Everyone had thought she was dead. Buttercup had, the Professor had, even Ms. Keane had. But learn that she had actually been held by the Narcassians and that she didn't remember anything? If the way Boomer had reacted to her proved anything, it was that Brick would be less than happy to see her.

Buttercup squeezed her hand in reassurance as they walked down the hall. Blossom was so engrossed in her thoughts that she wasn't paying attention to her surroundings. Despite the sensation of walking, it could have been if she was standing still. The panic in her chest wouldn't go away and she swallowed thickly, trying to calm her frazzled nerves. As much as she wanted to be a part of the Resistance, she was afraid of their reaction at seeing her. Most would be suspicious, she was certain of that. Both Elmer and Boomer had proven that. The rebels had been excited because Buttercup had been excited. Ms. Keane and the Professor didn't count for much. They were both like parents to her; they would always be excited to her, no matter what.

Blossom didn't notice they had stopped until she felt Buttercup practically crushing her fingers. Wincing, she wrenched her hand from her sister's grip and let her eyes rise from the ground. She was greeted by the sight of the Professor talking with Bubbles, on whose face was a rather displeased look. That would explain the waves of anger coming off Buttercup. That pang of longing again welled in her chest and Blossom wrapped her arms around herself tightly, trying to keep the emotion from reaching Bubbles. The pink puff could just feel a sort of subdued feeling from said blonde, but it was so slight, so suppressed, that it was almost as if it wasn't there. Blossom wondered how Bubbles would react to finding out that she was back. She hoped that her "youngest" sister would trust her. She hoped that Brick hadn't had too much influence on her.

"Well, everyone's assembled, so whenever you're ready," Bubbles was saying, walking through the door behind her. She didn't even glance at who was with the Professor.

If her heart was beating fast now, Blossom was sure it was nearly going twice that speed when the Professor said, "Ready? Let's go."

"_I can't do this!" _The panicked thought was thrown brutally at Buttercup and the green puff blinked rapidly, wincing in pain.

She glanced at the woman beside her as the thought registered. Throwing an arm around Blossom's shoulders, the raven-haired woman drew her sister closer to her. "Yes, you can," she hissed into her ear, rubbing the skin above her left eye. "That _hurt_ you know."

"Sorry," Blossom said, smiling at bit at the emotions Buttercup sent her way.

Despite the fear she felt, warm waves of confidence came from her green sister and that made it easier to handle. She wasn't going to be alone when she did this. The Professor and her sister were with her. With that thought in her mind, she walked confidently into the cafeteria. Looking around, she was somewhat startled to see so many people crowded in there. The thirty-something people that encompassed the rebels had seemed a lot to her, but there had to be at least a hundred people, if not more, packed together there.

Still looking around, Blossom could see the rebels huddled close to a raised platform on one wall. The stage was maybe three feet off the ground and made of painted wood and white titles. Next to said platform, she found her other sister sitting next to Boomer and a rather familiar man… As they neared, she realized with a jolt just _who_ exactly the man was. She knew that Boomer was good-looking. That was a given. And she had figured the other two would be just as handsome. Of course, she had also figured that seeing her counterpart after so long wouldn't affect her.

Apparently she was wrong.

His hair was long, pulled back into a neat low ponytail. It was still a shade or so darker than hers (she assumed) and looked well-groomed, completely different from when they were younger and it had been the epitome of a rat's nest. He wore a uniform similar in design to Bubbles', but obviously masculine and a deep burgundy color. He was sitting with his legs crossed, listening with a bored expression to whatever Butch was telling him. (It was obviously Butch talking to him. Blossom noted the forest green uniform and the physical similarities to the woman next to her.) Despite seeing him for most of her childhood, the man in front of her made her breath catch and those butterflies fly faster.

Blossom hated Brick even more for that.

Her cheeks were warm as she and her entourage walked past the table of Resistance head officers. She noticed Bubbles narrow her eyes at Buttercup and Butch throw said green puff a suggestive grin before returning to his conversation. Gulping, she let her eyes drift to the red ruff and felt her heart freeze. He was staring straight at her and, adjusting her hood, Blossom moved so that Buttercup was mostly between them. Her heartbeat had escalated again and she wondered if he could hear it. (Of course, as he _did_ have super hearing, she pretty much assumed that he could.)

"Well, thank you for all gathering here!" the Professor said as Buttercup and she positioned themselves behind him. Licking his lips, the dark-haired man cleared his throat. "I know you're all wondering _why_ I called you here and well, it has something to do with Blos-."

"Let me guess," a high, whiny voice said, interrupting him, and Blossom frowned as a woman with a high frizzy ponytail stood up. "The rebels finally found her body and _that's_ why they're here."

Glaring darkly at the woman, Buttercup snarled angrily, "She is _not_ dead, Princess!"

Princess Morbucks rolled her eyes, crossing her arms and raising a penciled eyebrow. Her thin, pale face was dusted with freckles, like Blossom remembered, and her dark auburn hair was frizzy as ever. Even her voice hadn't changed much and the pink puff winced as the Resistance officer laughed incredulously.

"Then _why_ are you here, Butterbrain?" she asked, a smug smirk on her face. "I mean, you _did_ scream that you would _never_ listen to anyone who wasn't _Blossom_." She literally spat Blossom's name as if it was foul word and the redhead next to Buttercup frowned.

"If you would just _listen_-." Buttercup couldn't even finish her thought before Princess scoffed.

"Ha! A _rebel_ telling _me_, a _Resistance officer_, what to do? Sorry, sweetheart. No dice." The young woman just smiled curtly at the green puff.

Buttercup's fists lit up in green energy and Blossom instantly grabbed the back of her sister's shirt, noticing Butch's muscles tense as he leaned forward in what could have been a casual gesture, but was anything but. Obviously he too was preparing for the green-eyed woman to go flying at Princess. In fact, that familiar green aura had started vaguely flickering over Buttercup's form and Blossom tightened her grip. As much as Princess annoyed her, she was not about to allow her sister to beat the woman within an inch of her life.

"Princess."

The way his voice, so low, yet so authoritative, cut through the risen voices was mind-boggling to Blossom. Years ago, he would have pummeled them for being so noisy, but now, Brick merely glanced at Princess with those blood red eyes of his before focusing on Buttercup. When he was sure that neither woman was going to speak, he then asked, "What is it you needed to report about Pinky, Professor?"

"Oh, well." The Professor scratched his head, turning to Buttercup.

Crossing her arms, the green puff just huffed, frowning sullenly at the wall. At this response, her father finally turned to the last person on the stage. He knew that she was scared, though the young woman would never admit that. A reassuring look was on his features now, instead of that giddy one he had before. This put Blossom at ease.

Gripping the hood, she shook her head. "I'm not surprised to see you haven't changed at all, Princess," she said pulling back her hood. She smiled coldly at the dark-eyed woman. "By the way, I'm alive. I always have been."


	7. The Reaction

**Storm**

_Trivia: Liberty Bell is from the episode _"Super Zeroes".

I'm starting school soon, so the next chapter may come out even slower than this one. I apologize in advance. Otherwise, please enjoy!

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><p><strong>Chapter 6: The Reaction<strong>

She was right there, but he didn't believe it. She was close enough that if he stood and took maybe five steps forward, he could touch her. But she couldn't be here. She was dead, wasn't she? But they had never found the body. They had never found a trace of her. No blood, not a hide nor hair. She _could_ have been incinerated, but he highly doubted that. So where had she been? No…if they never found her and the rebels nor another Resistance branch had had her, then that left only one other option…

Was this what Boomer had been trying to tell him earlier?

His surprise was short-lived and Brick fixed Blossom with a steely leer. He could feel the familiar feeling of hate flood his veins at the mere sight of her. How dare she stand there, a smug look on her face, and pretend that she could easily become a part of _his_ Resistance. She was gone for too long. She was no longer their shining beacon. And if she had been where he thought she had been… Brick gritted his teeth in displeasure, in anger, _in hatred_. The hot feeling in his veins was so familiar and something he hadn't felt in a long, long time. And he knew what it was as he had felt it every time he had laid his eyes on the woman standing before.

He was focused on controlling this feeling, trying to keep himself seated and nonchalant, as Princess said in disbelief, "B-B-Blossom?"

A vindictive and victorious smirk formed on Buttercup's face as she crossed her arms. She looked very haughty as she looked down at Princess. "_Who's_ dead, Prince-ass?"

Cheeks flushed, Princess didn't have a change to answer as, from an almost imperceptible nod from Brick, Bubbles alighted on the stage. She stood directly in front of Blossom and the redhead stared back at her. She could feel the emotions raging and boiling inside of her blonde sister, but nothing was betrayed on that pale, beautiful face of hers. They stared at each other for a whole minute before Bubbles asked in the most enthralling of voices, "Tell me the truth. Who are you? List any and all names, aliases, and titles."

"My name is Blossom Utonium, creation and daughter of Professor John B. Utonium, sister of Bubbles Utonium and Buttercup Utonium," she responded, not fully comprehending why she was saying all of this. "Leader of the Powerpuff Girls, defenders of the City of Townsville, counterpart of the leader of the Rowdyruff Boys, Brick Jojo. There was once a time where I went by the name of Liberty Bell, but that was short-lived."

She said all this without much feeling, though something told her she should be worried about how willingly she had. Frowning, Blossom focused on Bubbles' eyes and, despite her moral sense telling her not to, prepared to read her sister's mind. However, before she could do so, Bubbles was again asking her something in that very enticing voice.

"Where have you been for the last eight years?" There was a hint of hesitation and apprehension in her voice now. It didn't mar the strange, alluring tone of it, if anything it made it even more alluring, but Blossom was strangely incoherent to this fact.

A wave of apprehension hit Blossom, but if it was from herself, Buttercup, or Bubbles, she wasn't sure. She knew that at least a little part was from herself, but how much that little part was, she wasn't sure. She also knew that she had a reason to be hesitant about telling Bubbles where she had been, but her mind was fuzzy. A familiar kind of fuzzy that set alarm bells off in her head and panic add to the apprehension in her heart. The panic, however, was muffled by that strange fuzziness, that she _knew_ she had felt before, but couldn't place. Despite it being stifled, her stomach was still knotting and she took deep breaths in an attempt to fix it so she could answer her sister.

"I…was taken by the aliens," Blossom finally answered, pressing the heel of her right hand to the spot just above her right eye as a strong throb hit her. This was most likely caused by the low rumblings from the amassed people present. "And I…don't…I can't remember anything else…"

Stunned, Bubbles was silent for a moment before asking softly, her voice losing some of its alluring quality, "You remember nothing?"

Looking at her with weary eyes, the blonde haired woman was surprised to see how…_defeated _Blossom appeared. It wasn't clear on her face and it was barely visible in her eyes anyway, but it was there. And, despite the cold, ironclad defenses she had raised over the years, Bubbles felt the familiar throb in her chest. Her leader-. Closing her eyes, she mentally shook her head. No. Her _ex-leader _had never shown that she was defeated. Never. Not when facing Mojo for the first time and not when facing the Rowdyruff Boys.

"Nothing that would prove useful," Blossom answered quietly. She sighed and spoke before Bubbles could ask what she remembered. "I remembered they…fed me well. And that…" She closed her eyes tightly, trying to focus on the gray, fluid-like memories. "And that dark me…_Berserk_." She spoke the name with enough venom that even Princess was wincing. "She was with me a lot. But I…I don't know why."

Still shocked, Bubbles, almost unwillingly, turned to see Brick's reaction. The Resistance leader's face was painfully blank, though he was leaning forward as if to better hear what Blossom said. His mouth was pressed against his folded hands, his red gaze narrowed at the stage. There was a flicker in those eyes and, moving her eyes from his face, the blue sister noticed that Brick's muscles were taut. It looked, if one really looked, as if he was awaiting an attack. And Bubbles knew why he was that tense. Unlike her and Buttercup (and she resentfully acknowledged this fact), both of whom had pretty consistent exposure to their counterparts, Brick had had no exposure to Blossom in ten years. And thus was why his body tensed, immediately ready for battle, at the mere sound of the pink-eyed woman's voice.

Pulling her gaze from Brick, Bubbles refocused on Blossom. For the most part, she looked the same. Older, yes, more beautiful, definitely, but still the same. Same long red hair, same analytical pink eyes. The look in those eyes, though, that was not the same. That scared and defeated look was not meant to be on her face. It was wrong. Her sister was never scared or defeated in her memories. No matter what had happened, Blossom had been strong and always managed to figure out something, but that had been years ago and the woman before her was very much a stranger to her now.

"_Am I really a stranger, Bubbles?"_ Eyes widening, Bubbles felt her mouth open. She had been watching Blossom's face and, though she heard her ask that, her mouth had not moved.

"…how did you do that?" she asked, her voice hushed, the alluring quality now gone. She knew that she should raise her voice, should make it so that everyone could hear, but she didn't want the shock in it to be made known.

Sighing softly and pushing some hair behind her ear, Blossom responded in a clear voice, "My second ability is telepathy. Not only can I read minds, I have the ability to project my thoughts into a limit of two people at a time." Her lips quirked a bit and she gave her "youngest" sister a half-smile. "I suppose that limit may have something to do with the empathy link the three of us share."

"Wait! You can read our minds!" Princess exclaimed, looking rather fearful. The pink-eyed woman found this strange, despite knowing Princess' personality. If she was part of the Resistance, learning that the Powerpuff leader could read minds shouldn't be too much of a shock. The frizzy haired woman took an unwilling step back as Blossom moved a bit to focus her eyes on her.

"Yes. I can read your mind," the "Commander and Leader" said, eyes glittering in dark amusement. Her brow furrowed and she shifted her gaze from Princess to Brick. "I don't believe you should be having such fantasies about your superior officer."

Princess flushed in embarrassment as multiple people, including Butch and most of the rebels, laughed at her predicament. Grumbling darkly, she fixed a dark glare on Blossom, hating the smirk on the pink-eyed woman's face. She couldn't be the only one who had those thoughts about Brick. Hell, she knew that at least three female officers in his unit had those thoughts; they had told her themselves. And besides, who wouldn't have those kinds of thoughts about the man? He was _gorgeous_. Even Blossom would have those kinds of thoughts after a day or so with Brick.

"Please. Don't be vulgar," Blossom responded and Princess flushed again, realizing that she had, yet again, read her thoughts.

"W-Whatever," the woman snapped, looking away huffily. "At least I'm not the one breaking your precious little counterpart thing."

Eyebrows furrowing, Blossom frowned at this. What did Princess mean by that? Was Bubbles in a relationship with Butch or Brick? Said blonde-haired woman had whipped around before Princess had even finished what she was saying and Blossom cast a curious glance at her sister. Outside of fighting, the Girls hadn't thought much of the whole counterpart thing seeing as they tried not to dwell on the Rowdyruff Boys. It shouldn't, and didn't, matter to her whether or not Bubbles was with her or Buttercup's counterpart. Not that she wasn't curious, she was, oh, she was, but if Butch or Brick was the one that Bubbles wanted, then Blossom was fine with that.

"Now is not the time for gossip, Princess," Bubbles hissed coldly, blue eyes flashing.

"It may be gossip, but you have to admit, you two are rather _cozy_," the frizzy haired woman said, widening her eyes to feign innocence. "And isn't he _your_ superior officer too?"

Blossom felt a sharp throb in her chest. Startled by the strange feeling, the redhead felt her gaze move from Princess to Bubbles and then finally to Brick. Now staring at her counterpart, she realized that _he_ was the superior officer Princess was referring to. The sharp pain happened again and Blossom, for the life of her, had no idea what it was. It shouldn't matter to her if Bubbles and Brick were together…it really shouldn't…so why did she feel weird at the thought?

"That is enough, Princess." Brick's eyes were dark as he pulled his gaze away from Blossom. He stared a moment at the thin woman, before standing. "This conference is adjourned. Bubbles, take your sister to her room."

"Yes, sir." Bubbles saluted Brick and that irked Blossom. She didn't like how loyal her "baby" sister was to her archrival. Fixing him with a glare, the pink puff crossed her arms, her chest still throbbing and the butterflies fluttering helplessly when Brick turned to her again. His look was painfully blank, though, and she found herself wishing for some emotion, even hatred, to make those dark red eyes burn. Startled by that ludicrous longing, Blossom shook her head. Honestly, what was with her all of a sudden?

Brick continued to stare at Blossom, committing the woman's features to memory. She still looked like when he had last seen her. Yes, less pumpkin-headed and with digits now and defined facial features, but still rather similar. And his blood still burned with hatred. He knew he would have to tolerate her for a while, but his hatred for the goody-goody had always been much stronger than his brothers'. Taking a breath, Brick ripped his gaze from the pink-eyed woman as she shook her head. Yes, he would have to learn to tolerate her, but he would not allow her to become an officer. He didn't think she was trustworthy.

Turning, Brick left the cafeteria, Boomer on his heels. Bubbles watched him for a moment, before turning to Blossom. The redhead was also watching her counterpart, eyes unreadable, before she turned to the blue puff. Sighing softly, knowing that her blue sister was going to be painfully cold to her, she smiled bravely at the blue-eyed woman. As much as it pained her to see her sweet "little" sister loyal to her worst enemy, Blossom decided to show her that she wasn't upset by that choice. After all, it was she and Buttercup who had left Bubbles alone.

"Come on then," the blue puff said, walking off the stage.

Blossom followed after her, noticing that her other sister was just a few steps behind her. It gave her an odd sense of completeness as they needled their way through the crowd and out the doors. Her sisters and she were together again. Sure, two hadn't spoken in nearly a decade and she wasn't sure how much they had changed and one considered her a threat, but it was nice that all three of them were together. Even considering the circumstances, it was nice.

"So…you and Brick are 'cozy', huh?" Buttercup remarked and Bubbles whorled around, causing Blossom to stumble to a stop.

"And if we were, what does it matter to _you_?" the blue-eyed woman snapped, scowling at her dark-haired sister. Said woman merely raised an eyebrow and the blonde turned around, growling out, "No. There is nothing between me and Brick."

"You sound upset about that," Buttercup remarked and Blossom looked sharply at her green-eyed sister.

"_I am not upset_," growled the blonde woman as she stalked down the hallway.

Her green sister seemed oblivious to the anger radiating off the young woman, but with the fiery pangs coming through their empathetic link, Blossom was pretty sure that the "Toughest Fighter" was merely pretending. The anger was quite clear, the sharpest of the muted emotions from the blue puff. And with the anger, of course, came those piercing, red thoughts that stung Blossom's mind as they inundated it with their rage. Blearily blinking her eyes, the "Commander and Leader" tried her best to keep the thoughts out. Though she had been tempted to do so earlier, now she did not want to delve into her blue sister's mind.

"You sure? I mean, Brick _is_ pretty hot and _damn_ that body of his…" Buttercup let her voice trail off as Bubbles' shoulders stiffened.

The blonde let out an aggravated sigh, clenching her fists. "There is nothing between me and Brick. I am merely his assistant and nothing more. I am _not_ his lover."

"Never said you were his l-," Buttercup was cut off by the deadly calmness of Blossom's voice.

"Enough, Buttecup," she said softly, eyes glued onto Bubbles' back. As curious as she was, the way her sister was tensing did not sit well with her. When they had been younger and Buttercup had teased Bubbles, the young woman's muscles had never been this tense…not the tense that happened when she was fighting. And that exactly the kind of way Bubbles was tensing. "It doesn't matter who Bubbles is or isn't with."

Buttercup huffed, crossing her arms. "Aw, c'mon, Bloss! Like you don't think this is a juicy bit of gossip."

Snorting, the red-haired woman raised an eyebrow at her sister. "Since when did _you_ care about such trivial things as _gossip_?"

"Hey-." And again, Buttercup was cut off.

"You two seem rather close," Bubbles remarked, turning to the left.

Her sisters followed her and Buttercup frowned. "She's our sister. Of course we're close."

"Yes, she is our sister," the blonde conceded. "But she's been gone for eight years. Not to mention the fact that she was _being held by the aliens_."

Snarling, Buttercup glared at their "youngest" sister. "So? You've been working with _Mojo_ for eight years. You don't see me getting up in _your_ face because of that."

"Mojo pledged to help get rid of the aliens," Bubbles responded heatedly only causing her green sister to snort.

"Yeah, get rid of them and then take over the world for himself," she said darkly and the blonde threw a dirty look at her over her shoulder. "Hey, I only speak the truth."

Blossom watched as her sisters argued, torn between being worried and amused. She knew that they hadn't spoken for those eight years she was gone and that any contact, she was sure, escalated into an argument such as what was now happening. On the other hand, watching them argue with each other was a familiar experience. The two women had always argued when they were younger. Of course, Buttercup had always been highly argumentative, but she had more often gotten into arguments with Bubbles over trivial things than with Blossom. They still had their arguments, but not at the frequency Buttercup and Bubbles had them.

As their argument became a game of who could call the other something worse, Bubbles continued to lead them through the halls. Debating whether or not to interrupt the dispute, Blossom noticed a sign designating living quarters hanging from the ceiling as they made a right turn. In front of them now was an automated door and Bubbles typed in a code, all the while still arguing with Buttercup. The door opened with a pneumatic hiss and they walked through. And if Blossom was expecting anything fancy, she was disappointed.

Except for a change in color (from bright white, gray, and neon blue to umber, dark brown, and orange), nothing much had changed. The three women were still in a hall, but that hall opened up into a large commons. There was a small garden in the center of said area and there were multiple hallways branching off from it. The open area extended three floors (which Blossom didn't even realize there were) and doors and more hallways could be seen from the floor of the common area. Bubbles was stalking towards a hall on the right, still heatedly squabbling with Buttercup. Blossom followed slowly after, still taking in the sights of the commons.

The hallway they took had them past multiple doors until they finally reached one that had three circles on the door in green, a dark reddish color, and blue. The argument between Bubbles and Buttercup had persisted until the door and it was finally grating on Blossom's nerves. The nostalgic feeling was gone and had been replaced by annoyance. Letting out an aggravated sigh, the pink-eyed woman focused on her bickering siblings, her eyes darkening.

"Can you two _please_ stop?" she asked in a low voice. When neither stopped or acknowledged her, she growled authoritatively, "Buttercup. Bubbles."

Immediately the two quieted and Blossom let a satisfied smile form on her face. It was very pleasing to see that her sisters still responded to her authority. Of course, Bubbles was soon shaking her head and finished typing in the pass-code for the door as Buttercup raised an eyebrow at her redheaded sister. Smiling pleasantly in response, she redirected her attention to the open door.

"This is our…_apartment_, for lack of better terms," Bubbles said, waving her hand at the small living room. There was a couch, a loveseat, and a recliner in front of a large, flat-screen television with a black coffee table dead in the middle. There was also a bookshelf in the corner with a few books on it and mini-fridge on the bottom shelf.

Across from the entrance were three doors, each one being one of the signature colors of the Girls. On the left was a light blue one, in the middle a pink one, and on the right a light green one. Each door had a keypad next to it and, as the blue puff typed in a code on the pink door's keypad, something on her person beeped. Frowning, Bubbles' eyes dropped to her communicator and she pulled out the cell phone-like device as Blossom walked into the room.

The rosy eyed woman looked around, taking in everything. There was a bed in a small alcove on one side, covered in a pink and red comforter, on which sat her container of clothes from Ms. Keane. Next to the bed, but against the back wall, was a desk made of a light-colored wood. There was very little on the desk, save a red pen holder and a dark magenta knit bag that Blossom recognized as the one that Mrs. Cavadini had given her. So the Resistance soldiers had moved the rebels' possessions in already. Walking over to the desk, Blossom noted the open door leading to the bathroom and a dresser on the wall by the door to the living room.

Someone cleared their throat and the redhead turned to see Bubbles watching her with an unreadable look. "I have a meeting and have to take Buttercup with me," she said and Buttercup looked surprised at that. "Do _not_ leave your room."

Measuring her sister's expression, Blossom slowly nodded. "Okay."

Nodding, Bubbles continued to stare at her for a few more moments before turning. "Come on, Buttercup."

As Buttercup made a face at their "younger" sister, Blossom caught a stray thought from the blue puff. A thought that made her feel warm and surprised at the same time.

"_I missed you, Blossom."_

Blinking in surprise, she found herself blushing lightly as she watched her two sisters walk towards the front door. Gulping, she took a breath and then called out, "I missed you too, Bubbles."

Her blue sister paused before disappearing through the door. Buttercup threw Blossom a confused look before following the blonde. The pink puff just smiled at the door, sighing contently as she laid a hand on her crate of clothes. That small hesitation of Bubbles' had made her chest feel that much warmer than it had before.

* * *

><p>"I DO <em>NOT<em> WANT HER HERE!"

Princess was screaming at the top of her lungs as the two Powerpuffs entered Conference Room B. Almost immeditately, Buttercup slapped her hands over her ears as the shouting continued. It wasn't even solely from Princess, either. There were other Resistance commanding officers screaming at each other, each trying to prove that the other's logic was wrong. Butch's voice could be heard ringing out every now and then, mostly contributing with an insult or swear than anything helpful. Occasionally, the Professor, from behind Brick's chair, would attempt to speak, but his voice would die when Princess would send him a scathing glare. It was safe to say that it was complete pandemonium in the room.

And though the noise level in the conference room was near deafening, Brick remained unaffected by it. He sat in his chair, eyes on the gathered people, but not truly seeing them. He didn't notice Bubbles walk over and take a chair by him loyally or Buttercup beeline for Mitch, standing by a smirking Butch. His mind was miles away, still turning over the fact that his counterpart was alive. He didn't want to believe it, no matter what his eyes told him. It was too surreal, too much like some sick dream. It almost made him wonder if Him had decided to show up after so long and was twisting his mind into believing this warped reality. Because it had to be some kind of mind game, there was no way that she could be here.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, the noise in the room suddenly came rushing at him, tearing away whatever he had been thinking about. Teeth gritting as the clamor assaulted his ears, Brick found himself experiencing a grievous headache. He growled angrily, a guttural noise that was hidden by the racket of voices. However, it was heard quite clearly by both Bubbles and Boomer and the two blondes glanced at their superior officer as his crimson eyes began glowing slightly. Almost involuntarily, the two shared a look as Brick let out an aggravated sigh through his nose and lowered his hand to the table, pushing down as he stood soundlessly.

Red eyes glaring at the angry people who did not notice that he had stood, Brick said in a loud voice, "_ENOUGH._"

Instantaneously there was silence and the amassed officers turned to the Resistance leader with wide eyes. He regarded them darkly before shifting his gaze and focusing on Buttercup. The rebel leader unwillingly gulped, shrinking back a bit as the full force of his gaze bore into her. She wondered briefly how Blossom managed to not cringe back whenever her glared at her with those bloody eyes. Then again, she reasoned, Blossom never had to face _this_ Brick, only a younger, less powerful version, one with less stress and worries.

"Hi," she said, trying not to let fear color her voice as Brick glowered at her.

"How long was Pinky in your care?" he asked, his voice dangerously low.

Shifting a bit, the green puff glanced at Mitch and said, "Three weeks."

The look on Brick's face darkened immensely at that answer and multiple officers took several steps back. Teeth gritting, the red ruff growled out, "_Three weeks_?"

"Hey! I'm not the one who found the ice! Butch was!" Buttercup snapped, oblivious to Butch's attempts to shush her. At the sound of a slap, the green-eyed woman turned to find Butch covering his eyes with his hand. "What's with you?"

"_What ice_?"

This question was significantly angrier than the last and Buttercup winced, realizing her mistake. Looking at Butch, she finally understood that he had _not_ told Brick like she thought he had. Another wince and she turned back to the Resistance head. He looked positively livid and his eyes were quite literally glowing in his anger. In fact, he was so angry his eyes were nearly entirely red. Cringing back a bit, Buttercup's only solace was that his attention was no longer trained on her. Her counterpart, however, wasn't as lucky.

"_Butch_?" Brick stressed his brother's name as his eyes bore into the green ruff.

"Three weeks ago, my unit was returning from the field, as you ordered," Butch obediently recited, not breaking eye-contact with his less than happy brother. "We were ambushed close to the rebels' base by a squad led by the Powerpunks." Brick's eyes narrowed at the mention of the punks. "Before any fighting could begin though, a wall of ice appeared. Berserk flew somewhere then came back and called for a retreat. And that's it."

Brick took a breath, eyes fluttering closed. He rubbed his forehead, trying to soothe the throbbing in his head. Not only had Blossom been around for three weeks with the rebels, _who hadn't told them a thing_, Butch also had encountered his pink-eyed counterpart.

"Yeah, the ice is still around, by the way," Mitch put in, yelping when Buttercup slapped his arm. "OW! Goddamn it, BC!"

Sighing deeply, Brick opened those red eyes of his and focused on the rebel leaders. "The ice…is still around?" he asked slowly.

Grumbling, Buttercup nodded. "Yeah. The Gangreen Gang brought us a chunk. It's in one of the coolers we brought with us."

"Blossom's ice lasted this long? Fascinating." The Professor finally spoke, moving forward so that he could see his green daughter better. "It lasted three weeks? Before, when you were younger, it barely lasted two days! Did it really last this long?"

"Yup," the green puff said, shrugging. "Hey, all of our powers strengthened. If I can create a hurricane, why can't Blossom create permafrost?"

"…you _can't_ create a hurricane," Mitch pointed out, only to be hit again.

"I probably can. I never tried."

"Well, when you do try, I'm going to be somewhere far, far away."

"…thanks for the vote of confidence."

"You'r-."

"SHUT UP!" Princess screeched. She glared at the two rebels, before whipping towards the Professor. "How did Pinky pie even get in!"

Professor Utonium shifted uncomfortably, glancing nervously at Boomer before clearing his throat. "I, um, I was working in the Scanning Room and might have, uh, deleted the alert saying that Blossom had passed through the scanner…"

There was silence as his words were absorbed. Princess stared at him with her mouth agape before making an undignified noise in her throat. Fingers curling into fists, one hand inched to the blade holster on her thigh. However, her fingers stopped halfway there as Brick narrowed his eyes at her. Scowling, the young woman crossed her arms, glaring between Brick, the Professor, and Buttercup, the last of which was glaring back at her.

"So you _let_ her in?" the frizzy-haired woman asked, glaring daggers at the dark-haired man. He nodded meekly, eyes darting between Princess and the still rather angry Brick mere inches from his person. "You…you…_let_ in a possibly harmful person!"

"Hey! Blossom hasn't done anything that could be considered harmful the whole time she was with us!" Buttercup snapped before her father could speak. "Maybe if you stopped vilifying her-!"

"Ooh! I didn't know you knew such big words like 'vilify', Butterbrain!" Princess snapped back, eyes dancing maliciously. "And what about Emmons? She froze him!"

Making a strangled noise, the green puff snarled, "_Your fucking soldier attacked my sister_! She was defending herself! And besides, he's still alive, just, y'know, frozen…"

"Ugh. So what? She's still a threat." The way Princess rolled her eyes only served to anger Buttercup more. "If you weren't such a-."

"What Princess means to say, is that we have to treat Blossom with a healthy dose of distrust," Boomer interrupted, glancing at Brick to see if he was saying the right thing. When his brother made no move to stop him, he continued. "The fact is, she was with the aliens and she doesn't remember a thing. How do we know that she won't breakdown and start attacking people? How do we know she's not faking it? We don't, so that's why we're being so critical of her."

Silence again reigned in the room as Buttercup took deep breaths to calm herself. After a moment, she choked out, "Critical? This is you being fucking _critical_?_ You're fucking crucifying her_! You-!"

Before she could jump into another rant, Brick cut her off. "I have to keep the people in this facility safe. If I have to condemn Pinky as a threat, then I will. Understand that, Buttercup. Until further notice, _your sister is a fucking threat._"

Green eyes widening, Buttercup felt her mouth drop open. Sure, she knew that Brick would be immovable, but she hadn't expected him to drop the case so quickly. She had expected him to look over the accounts that she and the rebels would give. She had expected him to be fairer. She had expected him to not act like a stuck-up prick. This wasn't going as planned. It wasn't going right. Some part of her, some annoyingly logical part that sounded suspiciously like Blossom, told her that nothing always went as planned. (After all, Blossom would know, wouldn't she?)

Mouth opening and closing, she continued to stare at Brick, trying to figure out what to say. The ruff merely watched her with an unreadable expression and then, as he sat down, Buttercup knew what to say.

"It's because you hate her." It was childish and immature and she knew it, but it was the first thing that had come to her mind.

Brick's eyes flashed as he looked at Buttercup. "What?"

"You won't listen to what I have to say because you hate Blossom," the green puff said with conviction, feeling like she was about to cry for some reason. "You all think she's faking having amnesia. She's not. _She's not_. You weren't there the first time she said Aterex's name. You weren't there all those times she tried to remember something. You don't _know_ what it's like, watching her, not being able to help. _You don't fucking know how it feels, watching someone who was so strong struggle just to remember what the fuck happened to her_!"

He merely watched her with a blank look and, as she stood there panting, he asked in the blandest of voices, "Are you quite done?"

Fists clenching, Buttercup's eyes blazed, glowing brightly. "No, I'm not quite fucking done, but you've already decided anyway, so why bother?"

Glaring at Brick, she blasted a hole in his chair with her eyebeams and stormed out of the room, dodging Butch's grasp. Her counterpart moved to follow her, but from Brick's command ("No"), he stayed put. Glancing between the door and said brother, Butch looked a tad conflicted. Brick, on the other hand, looked perfectly unruffled and merely massaged his temple, ignoring the steaming hole in his very comfortable chair.

"Everyone is dismissed," he finally said in a tired voice.

The convened officers jumped at his voice and, after multiple glances to see if he said anything else, slowly prepared to leave. The only noise for a few minutes was of the officers moving about and leaving. For that lack of clamor, Brick was thankful. His mind was painfully full of everything that had transpired in little more than an hour. He rubbed his forehead, trying to dull the still glaringly there headache. What was he to do? For all of his knowledge and power, Brick honestly had no idea how to take Blossom's reappearance. He knew that she was to be handled with hazmat gloves, screw kid's gloves. But how exactly he was to treat her…he just wasn't sure.

Frowning, Brick, without opening his eyes, asked, "Why are you still here?"

"I wanted to see if I could help any."

Sighing and reluctantly opening his eyes, the red ruff focused on the straggler. "And what do you propose you can help with, Lieutenant Utonium?"

Smiling a bit at his forced light tone, Bubbles placed a hand on Brick's cheek. "I don't know…why don't you tell me?"

Watching her, Brick took her hand and brought it to his mouth, kissing her knuckles. The look in his eyes was painfully like the one that Blossom had and Bubbles found herself desperately trying to keep the hardened walls around her heart intact. She knew that she and her sisters shared physical similarities with the ruffs, but that look, that weary defeated look, in Brick's eyes was too alike to the one that Blossom had had only an hour previous. And it hurt her to see both her leaders with that look. It hadn't looked right on Blossom's face and it certainly didn't look right on Brick's. Neither moved for a moment, both lost in their own thoughts. Bubbles awaited Brick's answer to her question, her hand still captured in his grasp.

After another painfully quiet moment, Brick murmured softly, "I don't know either…"

X-x-X

Please read and review! *hides in hole because of BrickxBubbles ending*


	8. Benefit of a Doubt

**Storm**

_Trivia: Can you find the lyrics from a Sara Bareilles song in this chapter?_

_Forgive me for the horrendously long wait for this chapter. I have no excuse, outside of the usual school happened and graduating and college. There is really no excuse for my three year absence, but hopefully I will be able to rectify that now. For those who are still interested in this story, thank you and I'm sorry for the long wait._

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter 7: Benefit of a Doubt<strong>

The next morning, Buttercup was still angry. However, despite her sharing an empathy link with the woman and having telepathy, Blossom wasn't sure _why_ she was angry though. Her "younger" sister's thoughts were rolling and raging, like waves on a stormy sea, with no clear picture of what caused her anger. Her thoughts were little more than angry red flashes of faces and words and Blossom sighed deeply as those familiar irate thoughts scraped at her mind. It seemed as if she couldn't escape from the angry thoughts. And their red darkness just made memories surface that had no shape or meaning. Just more flashes of fury and irascibility.

Covering her mouth as she yawned, Blossom glanced at her sister. When Buttercup had stormed into her room that morning, the redhead had expected a flood of angry insults and a rant on someone (most likely Butch). Instead, the dark-haired woman had just sat on her bed, watching her finish getting ready and then dragged her out of the apartment when she was. They were now walking down a hall and her green sister's face was still set in a deadly dark look, scaring most, if not all, of the people they ran into. She wanted to ask her what was wrong, but Blossom was unsure how to say it now. It'd been so long ago since she had to soothe one of her sisters.

"Let's train."

Jumping slightly, the Powerpuff leader turned to Buttercup in surprised. "Come again?"

"Train. Last night, before I got back, I found the training room." Buttercup's face suddenly seemed less dark and a familiar eager glint was in her bright green eyes. "It has a training simulator. So let's spar. I want to see if those al-." She abruptly stopped herself, glancing nervously at Blossom.

The redhead was staring ahead blankly, her mind tickling her with faded, dull memories. They were so close, just blurry enough that if she squinted maybe…just maybe she could-. She shook her head, clearing away the sudden persistent fog of those memories. She didn't know how important the memory was nor if it held anything of worth to her, but she'd rather not have Buttercup go all mother hen on her again. As much as she loved her, the woman could be a little suffocating at times. Forcing a smile on her face, Blossom turned to her sister.

"Why not? I could use a good sparring session," she said, trying to keep the haunted look from her eyes.

Buttercup paused, searching her face, before grinning widely and taking her hand. "Come on then!"

"W-Wait!" Blossom cried as the other woman practically flew down the halls with her in tow. "What about breakfast!?"

"I wanna work up an appetite!" Buttercup responded, skidding to a stop in front of a door. "Tadah! The training room!"

Gasping slightly, Blossom looked up at the typical gray and blue door in front of her. She frowned as Buttercup pressed a button and the door swung open. Pulling her fingers through her hair to fix it, she followed her sister through the door. She allowed herself to look impressed at what greeted her.

The room was large and full of mostly weights and similar equipment. The room's walls were white and bright lights shone down on the few people already there. Buttercup hovered through the room, letting a wide grin form on her face. She looked positively giddy at all the equipment and, eyes landing on the simulator, she let out a rather manic chuckle. It had been ages since she was in a training simulator. Well, not ages as she had been in one the other day, but ages since she used one to actually train and kick monster ass. Flexing her fists, ignoring the slightly green energy gathering in her palms, the raven-haired woman hovered up to the door and regarded the techie there with bright, bright lime green eyes.

"Yo! Set us up for an empty field," Buttercup said as Blossom joined her. She gestured to the redhead with her thumb and the techie, staring at both with wide eyes, suddenly regarded something on the computer screen in front of him.

"U-Um…I-I…um, s-she's not allowed…in the training simulator," he stuttered, making a motion towards Blossom. He cowered as Buttercup's eyes flashed.

"And why _not_?" she growled, the green energy engulfing her fists. Her sister instantly gripped her arm and the green puff flinched as the sudden cold of ice hit her skin.

The techie bit his lip before shuffling nervously. "G-General B-Brick's orders, m-miss," he practically whispered as the green-eyed woman glared down at him.

Buttercup stared at him blankly for a moment, making the techie shake even more, before she bolted from the room with a snarl and Blossom on her heels. The pink puff tried her best to keep up with her sister, fruitlessly attempting to grab her arm or shirt. Anger was billowing off her in waves and Blossom tried to keep the red thoughts from burrowing into her mind. Try as she might, though, a few managed to worm their way in, making her slightly dizzy. It didn't help that more memories threatened to resurface as well, filling her with a vaguely familiar hazy feeling. However, whatever that feeling was, was suddenly slammed back as a torrent of hostile emotions invaded the empathy link. Gasping, Blossom found herself tripping into the green puff's back. The raven-haired woman had suddenly stopped and from the sharp spike in dark emotions, the redhead could only guess that her sister had found her target.

Taking a breath, she stepped around Buttercup to see four Resistance officers standing in front of them, Brick being one. His red eyes were trained on her sister and they darkened as she stepped into his line of sight. On the other hand, Butch, who was standing next to him, just grinned even more, his dark green eyes glittering. There was a pregnant silence as neither group moved nor spoke. The two other officers, Princess and an older gentleman that Blossom did not know, merely glanced between the four counterparts.

Eyes not leaving Blossom, Brick asked her sister, "What is it you need, Buttercup?"

"You to stop being a fucking ass," she snapped in response causing Blossom looked at her sharply. "What the fuck, Brick? So Blossom can't even let off some _steam_?"

"Tried the training simulator, I see," the Resistance Leader said, turning his gaze back to the handheld computer he was holding. "I told you already. She's considered a threat." Brick's eyes flashed to the pink-eyed woman, whose full lips had turned down in a frown at that. "Therefore, until further notice, the training simulator is off limits to her."

Buttercup gritted her teeth, her anger flaring anew as she took in the red ruff's emotionless face. Her clenched fists ignited in green energy and Butch instantly threw up a translucent green shield between her and his brother. Despite the clear hostility in her face, Brick remained completely unruffled and sighed, gesturing for his brother to drop the shield. For a few moments, the green-eyed man didn't respond before letting the green shield disappear with a clear look of discontent. His muscles were still tense and the glowing green energy hadn't disappeared from his counterpart's fists either.

"You're doing this to be an ass, aren't you?" The green puff gesticulated angrily with her glowing hands, not giving notice to the way they sparked as she sliced the air. Nor did she notice the small air currents gathering around her and Blossom's ankles. "It's unfair!"

"You may find my choice unfair, but I'm only doing this to protect the people here," Brick explained and Blossom found herself heavily tempted to delve into his thoughts. "Therefore, until we know more or feel like we can trust her, Pinky is little more than a civilian."

"You mean prisoner," Buttercup hissed in response. "God! Who the hell died and made you the king of _anything_?"

There was the slightest of twitches from Brick and, as she was looking at his face, Blossom noticed that his mouth seemed a little tighter than it had a moment before. Frowning herself, the pink puff had the decency to elbow her sister for that comment, despite the fact she agreed. However, something about the way her counterpart's eyes had darkened made a small ball of sympathy form in her stomach. She bit her lip, a nervous tick that she had apparently _not_ grown out of, and tried her hardest not to read his thoughts.

"Buttercup," Blossom warned softly as the green puff glared at the Resistance general.

"Seriously! What the hell is with the fucking holier-than-thou attitude!? I mean, really! You're the fucking same as me or Butch! Hell, you're the goddamn _counterpart of Blossom_!" she snarled, making angry gesticulations as she talked. Buttercup didn't care if that made little sense; she was just angry that Blossom was being treated like this. "And what's with all this 'I have to protect' and 'my choice' crap!? Is this a dictatorship here? I mean, I know power can make people cuckoo, but honestly?"

No emotion showed on Brick's face, but the way his eyes seemed to only get darker set alarms off in Blossom's head. She may have been gone for eight years and she may have not seen Brick in ten, but she could still tell when her counterpart was becoming beyond angry. Snapping her gaze to her equally angry sister, she tried shushing her, only to have Buttercup to ignore her.

"Bu-." Blossom tried again, but her sister was well into her rant and the pink puff knew how Buttercup could get. It made Mojo look brief in comparison.

"_Not now, Bloss,_" Buttercup growled, eyes glowing brightly. "I'm letting this bastard know how much of a dick he is! Just because you've been gone for so long, doesn't mean you've gone off the deep end and became the aliens' bitch!" Blossom looked offended at this comment as Butch raised an eyebrow and Princess coughed, covering her snort. The green puff's eyes never left Brick's face as she continued, "And y'know what? I still can't believe they made you fucking general! How the hell did that happen? You kill the old one and claim an alien did it, Bricky boy?"

Instead of darkening to black, those red eyes suddenly became a bright red, almost scarlet in their brightness. However, Blossom wasn't paying attention to Brick; her eyes were now trained on Buttercup. The look of pure glee and unadulterated sadism on her sister's face was just wrong. This was not how someone like Buttercup was supposed to act. She didn't care how long she was gone or what had changed; Blossom did not want to see her sister acting like a sadistic witch.

"Hey…" Butch said, frowning at her. "Buttercup, seriously. Sto-."

Buttercup completely ignored her counterpart and continued her tirade. "Really, Brick. Tell me. How di-?"

"Enough."

It wasn't Brick's voice that uttered the word. It wasn't Butch and it wasn't Princess. And it certainly wasn't the officer virtually hiding behind Princess, either. As the realization who spoke set in, five sets of eyes turned to Blossom. The pink-eyed woman's face was set in an expression that made Buttercup stiffen. That expression, with those pink eyes dark in anger and disappointment and those full lips set in a frown, was so much like the one that would adorn her face when Buttercup would disobey a direct order and the memories of all the times that she had done that surged in her mind. It was an expression that the green puff hadn't seen in a long time.

If she had to be honest, then Blossom would confess that she liked the way everyone had fallen silent at the tone of her voice. It gave her the familiar feeling of control that felt oh so nice and also made her realize just how antsy she was to train her strategies and work on the ones that were floating amongst those bleary images. Of course, as she couldn't use the simulator, there was really no way for her to work on them besides writing them down and if she learned anything from living with Buttercup, it was that sometimes doing something was better than just sitting there thinking about doing it.

"I understand where…_Brick_…is coming from with his caution," she said, eyes locked on Buttercup. "I may not like it and you…well, you certainly don't like it, but as the leader of the Resistance, it is his opinion that matters."

"…I can't believe you said that with a straight face," Buttercup said, eyes wide. "Did…you just…_acknowledge_ that _Brick_ has more power than you do?"

Blossom frowned at her sister, a look of annoyance plain on her pretty face. "It's clear in this situation. I am the pariah here and he is the honored general." Glancing at her counterpart, her lips twitched into the semblance of a half smile before the frown took over. "You're welcome."

"What?" Buttercup asked in confusion.

"It's nothing," Blossom responded. Crossing her arms, she gave Brick her full attention. "Would I be correct in saying that I am not allowed to join the Resistance army?"

"As much as I hate saying you're correct, you would be," Brick answered. "Now, excuse me. I have matters to attend that do not involve bitchy hissy fits from pissed off rebels."

He inclined his head to the stunned Buttercup and annoyed Blossom before gesturing for Princess and the other officer to follow him. The sisters watched them walk away in silence. As soon as the trio turned a corner, Buttercup let out an aggravated screech, thoroughly scaring a few pedestrians. Cursing colorfully, she made throttling motions in the air in front of her as Blossom watched impassively. The red-haired puff crossed her arms, frowning at her sister.

"You need to control your temper, Buttercup," she scolded lightly, looking at her with worried eyes.

"'You need to control your temper, Buttercup'," the "Toughest Fighter" mimicked in a bad imitation of Blossom's voice. This received a narrowed glare and she threw her arms up. "I know, I know! I have a bad temper! It hasn't changed!"

"Well, anger management courses are a little…sparse when you're living in a post-apocalyptic world," Butch chimed in, startling both women. He smirked, eyes glittering when they turned to him. "Forget about me?"

"…I thought you left with…" Buttercup pointing down the way Brick went and her counterpart just continued to smirk.

"There were only three people going down that way," he pointed out. His smirk dropped at he looked between the two sisters. "So he really put Blossom on the black list for the simulator?"

Grimacing, the green sister nodded, crossing her arms. "Ugh. Honestly. What the hell is with Brick?"

The Resistance sergeant crossed his arms, eyebrows furrowed. "He's stressed. He's the leader of the whole fucking Resistance, Butters," Butch said, frowning. "He doesn't have a partner to co-lead with like you did."

She glared at him for that and looked ready to make a retort when Blossom silenced her with one look. The raven-haired rebel took to grumbling under her breath and shooting glares at both her sister and counterpart. Despite her sour attitude, the pink puff knew that Buttercup recognized that Brick indeed have a lot on his shoulders. Blossom herself understood the responsibility that the red ruff was shouldered with. While being the leader of a trio of super-powered girls wasn't the same as being the leader of an entire Resistance organization branching out all over the world, the same basis of responsibility was there. Brick had to act accordingly and be a paragon of trust and fairness…just like Blossom once had to be.

Ignoring the sudden throbbing in her chest, the red-haired woman turned her attention to Butch. "You're very protective of your brother," she noted and the green-eyed man blinked at her in surprise.

"Exactly. He's my brother." He shrugged before giving the two puffs a half-smile. "I take it Bubs is being cold?"

"The Antarctic is warmer than that bitch," Buttercup snapped, now scowling at the wall. It was clear that she was still angry about the cold shoulder her "little" sister was giving her and Blossom.

"Buttercup!" said "older" sister chastised as Butch raised an eyebrow. "She's our sister!"

The green puff snorted in response. "Ha! She hasn't been acting like it."

Blossom frowned. She reached out to touch her sister's shoulder, but she twisted away from her. Hurt, the redhead sighed shakily before murmuring, "It's only been a day…and we both did abandon her."

Both green-eyed superhumans snapped their attention to Blossom at that. Buttercup mouthed helplessly, looking somewhere between shocked and angry. She hadn't expected Blossom to feel as if she had abandoned Bubbles. Her pink sister had been taken by aliens! Why should she feel that way? The ex-rebel leader clenched and unclenched her fists, floundering for an answer to that. However, nothing came to her mind and she swallowed thickly.

"I…I didn't…I mean…" She bit her lip, before trying again. "…you didn't abandon her…I did. I was the one who didn't join the Resistance."

The redhead looked at her, analyzing her face and the emotions coming from her before she sighed softly.

"I suppose you're right…but I still feel like I have sometimes…" she murmured and Buttercup made a weird noise in her throat, something between a whimper and snarl.

An awkward moment passed between the three. Blossom and Buttercup merely stared at each other as Butch looked between the two, unsure as to what to do. He wasn't good with situations like this. He couldn't comfort someone; that was beyond his pay grade. (Not that he had a pay grade, but it sounded nice.) Looking away uneasily, the green ruff bit the inside of his cheek in thought before sighing. God, he hated atmospheres like this.

"Well! This is getting too heavy for me!" he suddenly declared, clapping his hands. "So I'm going to-."

"Oh, no you don't," his counterpart said, grabbing his arm. "I'm enlisting for the Resistance."

Looking shocked, Butch stared at her unabashedly. Even Blossom looked surprised. Both said, "You are?"

"How the hell else am I going to be able to kick Narcassian ass?" she snapped, before turning to Blossom. "See? I remembered what those jackasses are called!"

Lips quirking, the redhead chuckled lightly. She looked like she wanted to remark on that, but instead she said, "I didn't say a thing."

"Ah, but you were thinking it!" Buttercup responded, before bringing her attention back to Butch. "Okay. Yeah. The aliens are called Narcassians. Yes, Blossom knows that. She was held prisoner by them, remember. And you are going to help me enlist." Hooking her arm around Butch's, she started dragging the sergeant down the hall, despite having no idea as to where she was supposed to go. "Now let's go."

"Jesus. Pushy, aren'tcha?" Butch grumbled. Before his counterpart could take him too far, he tossed something to Blossom. She looked at the little pad in her hand before giving him a confused look. "Those are some pass codes for those public places!" The pink puff looked alarmed as Buttercup practically pulled his arm out of the socket. "FUCK OW! Christ, woman!"

"Come _on_, pencil dick!" the raven-haired woman snarled, receiving another yelp of pain.

Blossom watched them go with a look of concern on her face.

* * *

><p>The pink-eyed woman sat on her bed that night, playing with a pencil and staring blankly at the three objects on her comforter. The objects consisted of her list of pass codes, an open sketchbook, and the communicator she had received that day. Sighing she dropped her pencil and picked up the list of codes, flipping through them. There were maybe twenty codes there, maybe a little more, and each was a specific number combination that varied in length depending on what it was used for. Such as the one for the cafeteria, it was simply three-six-six-three.<p>

The first thing she had decided to use her handy list of pass codes for was to enter the cafeteria and grab something to eat. Brunch had been a quiet and awkward experience as everyone had stared baldly at her, though it became less awkward when Jocey had bounced over and joined her. The second thing she had used the list for was to enter the Professor's lab. He had had stopped her on her way to the cafeteria, telling her to drop by whenever. She had done just that, but aside from getting a communicator, had not been able to talk to her father because of his fussing over the state of Emmons.

A dull throb filled her chest at the memory of Emmons. She hadn't seen him, but there were muffled screams coming from one of the rooms off the main lab. Her guilt flared anew and Blossom, dropping the list of codes, wrapped her arms around herself. She still felt as if it was her fault that Emmons had been turned into that thing. The memory of delving into his mind surfaced and she shuddered.

_"__And you…will find Blo…ssom…and…ki…ll…" _

The Narcassian had told him to find _her_. It had used him to get to _her_. Maybe Brick was right. Maybe she was a threat…but not for the reason he thought. Shifting so that she was sitting with her arms wrapped around her knees, she frowned. Brick thought she was a threat because he believed that _she_ would be the one to attack people. He didn't realize that she was a threat because _the aliens_ would use people to get to _her_.

Pressing her face against her knees, Blossom groaned, grumbling lowly, "Now I want to train."

As she sat there grumbling to herself, a thought struck her and she sat up, blinking. Her mouth dropped open and she slapped her forehead. How could she not have realized it? Jumping off her bed, she pulled on a pair of pants and traded her baggy sweater for a regular long-sleeved shirt. Quickly slipping into a pair of flats, she crept to her door, opening it a bit and peering out. She noted that the living room was dark and she crept towards the door, her glowing eyes casting pale pink light. With a quick glance around, she slipped through.

It took her a few minutes to find her way after leaving the living quarters, but about fifteen minutes later, Blossom found herself in front of the door to the training room. She smiled to herself. Brick said she couldn't use the training simulator, but what if there was no one there to stop her? Pulling out her pad of codes, she flipped to the second page and quickly found the code next to "Training Room". She quickly typed it in (two-eight-eight-two-four) and the door slid open with that familiar pneumatic hiss. Walking into the room, Blossom glanced about, despite knowing that no one would be there at such an hour. It had to be at least midnight, after all.

Shaking her head, she floated over to the training simulator controls. She took a breath to steel herself and quickly pressed the blatantly labeled "on" button. The monitor in front of her beeped and a blue monochrome screen came on asking for a code. Frowning, not expecting this, Blossom looked through her codes, but couldn't find one that said it was for the training simulator. After a moment or two of staring blankly at the screen, she tried the code for the training room.

_Access Denied._

_"__Okay…let's try…"_ Blossom typed in the code to the Professor's lab, but came up with the same screen.

Frowning, she tried a few more codes and even tried just a bunch of random numbers, but each try came up empty. Now more than a little confused, she crossed her arms and stared down at the screen. She hadn't expected that a password was needed to get into the simulator. If she wasn't so wound up with energy, she would have just given up and let Brick have his way. However, seeing as she was in need of a good training session, the pink puff found herself glaring at the machine, hoping to cow it into letting her in.

"Well…this is unexpected." Eyes widening and letting out a surprised squeal, Blossom literally jumped a foot into the air and hovered there, turning to find Butch standing ten feet behind her.

"H-How did you get in here?" she asked, placing a hand over her heart. She hadn't heard the door hiss open and she reluctantly landed as a Butch raised an eyebrow.

"Scare ya, did I?" he said, smirking. "And I used the door in the pool room. It was closer to where I was."

"O-Oh…" Blossom nodded, wringing her hands nervously.

The green ruff watched her, taking in her expression, and his smirk grew as he realized why she was in the room. "You tried to sneak into the training simulator."

It wasn't a question and her cheeks heated up in response to the statement. Stuttering, she said, "N-No!"

"Then why are you here?" he asked, grinning widely.

Blossom gulped and shifted uncomfortably. "I…um, sleepwalked here?" she tried and the painfully incredulous look she received made her wince.

"Bullshit," Butch responded, crossing his arms. He chuckled, shaking his head. "Wow. I never realized how bad at lying you were."

Blossom frowned and pouted, mimicking his stance. "Okay, so I tried to sneak into the simulator. It's not like I can do it during the day."

"Mmm. I know how that is," he murmured, walking over to her. He bent slightly and typed something into the simulator controls. It beeped and a screen denoting _Access Granted_ appeared. Winking at the stunned puff, he jovially said, "Wanna train with me?"

She gaped at him for a moment before regaining her composure. "Sure, but how did you…?"

She let herself trail off as Butch strode over to the door, stripping off his jacket. She followed after him, still looking confused and grudgingly impressed. How had the raven-haired man managed to open the simulator? He had typed in a code, that was obvious, but what code had he used?

Stopping in the middle of the room, Butch faced her. She found herself blushing as his green eyes looked over her and she squirmed a bit. His thoughts were thankfully not as bad as Ace's had been, but they were still steamy enough to make her uncomfortable. Coughing into her fist, she gave him a pointed look and he only grinned in response. They were silent for a moment or two before he stretched his arms over his head. Blossom found herself staring at his torso and the little bit of stomach that had been exposed from his stretching. Shaking her head, she bit her lip and averted her gaze.

"Shall we begin?" Butch asked and Blossom whipped towards him as he called out, "Computer, arena four-dash-thirty-two, Townsville, mid-morning. Start!"

Immediately the white tiled room disappeared and the two were standing on Main Street, Townsville. Despite herself, Blossom found herself looking around, feeling tears bead in her eyes. It had been so long since she last seen Townsville in its glory and not the gray shell it was now, with the black nest growing in its center. She was so focused on taking in her surroundings that she completely forgot that Butch was standing only four feet from her. It wasn't that she was unaware of him; she still could sense he was there, but her mind wasn't focused on the here and now. It was miles away in the past.

There was movement in her peripheral and she twisted, just narrowly dodging Butch. She whorled towards him but found nothing there. Eyes widening, the pink-eyed woman glanced around before glancing left and holding up her arms to block his swift kick. Despite blocking his attack, she was still sent back multiple feet, her shoes skidding across the virtual asphalt. Lowering her arms, Blossom ducked and swung her fist up, successfully delivering a sharp uppercut to Butch's chin. The ruff flipped once in the air and rubbed the wounded body part, smiling widely. She glared up at him, frowning.

"Hey! What's the big idea?" she snapped. "And you still haven't answered my question!"

Butch didn't answer, however; he just dived at her, slamming his fist into the street where she had been standing a moment earlier. Straightening, the young man idly brushed dust off his hands and gave the pink puff a wide grin. This action caused a dull throb in the young woman's head as a memory fought its way to the surface of her mind. Wincing, she took an involuntary step back, fighting back the memory and simultaneously watching him warily.

"Less talk, more fighting," he finally said, lunging forward.

Blossom tensed and though she kept her eyes on him, a moment later she lost sight of the green ruff. Startled by this fact, she furtively looked about, but found no sign of her training partner. Feeling panic set in, she had little time to react to the barrage of punches delivered to her torso. With a gasp, her body was sent flying into one of the buildings, effectively destroying the exterior wall. The debris created from her crashing covered her entirely, leaving her under a pile of rubble.

Butch flew over to the hole, looking idly inside and using his x-ray vision to see through the debris. He found no trace of the redhead, however, and, before he could feel worried, he found himself propelled backwards. The force slammed him into the building across the street, leaving a Butch-shaped crater in the wall. He shook his head and found the pink puff standing mere feet away.

The look she gave him was almost frighteningly similar to a look Brick often had and as Butch pondered this, she held up a fist. As she released several pink blasts at him, he threw up a shield, cutting off attacks. From the frustrated look on Blossom's face, the redhead must have forgotten that he could do that. Smirking, enjoying the fight more than he probably should, the green-eyed man let loose a few fist-beams himself before flying towards the woman.

Her eyes narrowed and she tensed her muscles before she soared into the air. She surveyed Butch a moment before shooting off. From a short burst of colorful thoughts, the pink puff knew he was following her. A small smirk formed on her face as she swerved among the buildings. Her favorite thing to do when fighting the ruffs was Cat and Mouse. Though admittedly only Brick shared her love for it (as they did fight that way most of the time), Blossom found herself hoping that Butch would play along with it. As soon as she thought this, she felt something slam into her with enough force to throw the through a window, only just noticing a warm body on her own as she hit the ground.

They landed heavily in the office, if that was what it was, as both were too focused on the other. Twisting under him, the pink puff threw her elbow into his clavicle and then eyebeamed his chest. His breath left him in a horrendous cough, but he still had her pinned. He winced, but grinned salaciously causing her to blush. Scowling, she managed to grip his collar and threw him off her. He was thrown into a wall, causing most, if not all, of the artwork and assorted awards to fall. Blossom stood, panting deeply, and leered at the man grinning at her. Fists igniting, she zoomed towards him, slamming her fist into his force field. Teeth gritted, she narrowed her glowing eyes at him.

"Someone's getting angry~," Butch sang, manipulating his shield to wrap around Blossom.

Noticing the sudden curvature of his shield, the young woman jumped back, scowling. He just continued to smirk, dropping the shield and lunging towards her. Aiming a punch are her face, the redhead dodged it and retaliated with a swift kick to his side. Butch hissed in pain, biting out an angry "FUCK". He jumped backwards, sending multiple fist-beams at her. She twisted in a way that reminded the Resistance sergeant of a dancer and she was suddenly in his face, delivering a sharp roundhouse kick to his temple. The force of her kick was enough to send him flying through the wall and into the next room.

Butch tumbled across the floor before managing to regain his balance. He skidded on his toes and one hand, gathering dark green energy in the other one. He threw the energy ball when Blossom appeared in the hole, hitting her in the stomach. Her breath left her in a gasp and she herself was thrown back. The green-eyed man had to bite back a sadistic chuckle and shot into the other room. He found Blossom lying in the remains of a desk, her eyes tightly closed. For a moment, he felt some worry that he had used too much force, but he was too fired up to let that thought gain any traction. As he neared the young woman, he noticed the room temperature severely drop. Before he could react, Blossom breathed out a gust of frozen air, freezing him from the waist down.

Without skipping a beat, the pink puff was on her feet and delivering another roundhouse to Butch's stomach. The ice around his legs shattered as the force of the kick sent him flying across the room. He slammed through a desk, wincing as the wood splintered around him. Before he could push himself up, there was a sudden weight on his body and a glowing pink object was shoved in his face.

"Give up?" Blossom growled and Butch blinked, moving his head to see her face. Despite the dark look on her face, he had to admit that the way her nose scrunched up in anger was rather cute.

"Give up? Ha!" In the next moment, he had her pinned underneath him. "Really. You should know me better, Blossy~."

She eyebeamed him, but he was already off her, dancing backwards. He grinned cockily at her and then he was gone. Blossom cursed softly, eyes darting around, trying to catch sight of him or any semblance of thought. The most was getting were flickering images and some nasty thoughts that made her simultaneously uncomfortable and furious. She didn't want to stay where she was in the office, despite the protection it served. The precise moment she blasted out of the building was the same moment Butch slammed a fist into the ground where she had once being standing. Gasping, eyes wide, the pink puff managed a smirk as the ruff narrowed his eyes at her. She waved cheekily and twirled in the air, dodging an eyebeam.

She dropped several stories before flying close to the street, breathing out softly and creating a trail of ice for Butch to follow. Turning sharply around a corner, dodging another beam, Blossom let out a much larger breath of ice. Her fingers danced through the air and, when Butch came rocketing around the street corner, he slammed straight into a thick wall of ice. Colorful curses filled the air and her mind and Blossom laughed lightly. Butch began melting the ice with his eyebeams, but the pink puff blindsided him by literally blooming from the wall and kicking him sharply in the side. He went flying, but managed a fist beam that slammed into her gut. The two superhumans crashed into opposite buildings, debris falling from their matching craters.

The first to recover was Butch, who again rocketed at her. Expecting a punch, Blossom let herself fall again, but released a surprised gasp when she felt another body adding weight to her descent. Twisting, she tried to grab Butch by the face, but only succeeded in spinning them. Neither corrected themselves and both slammed into the ground, the green ruff cushioning Blossom. Hissing a little, she squirmed out of his grip, using his thighs to propel herself out of the crater they had made. As she landed, body tensing for another go around, Butch held up his hands in a calming manner as he sat up. Frowning, she reluctantly relaxed, though she still eyed him suspiciously and watched him as he stood.

"So you concede defeat?" she asked and he raised an eyebrow.

"Well…_no_," he began, grinning at her narrowed glare. "_But_ we've been fighting for almost an hour now. And as much as I love fighting, I technically can't shirk my duties as an officer."

Blossom looked surprised at this. "Really? But…no, that can't be r-."

He held out his communicator to her, its screen denoting the time as 1:04 AM. It didn't feel like they had been fighting for an hour. If anything, it felt as if they had been fighting for only a few minutes. Mouth moving up and down uselessly, she then noticed that she was indeed panting heavily and her bangs were sticking to her forehead. She pushed said hair off her face and took notice that Butch himself was sweaty, though not as much as she was. Pocketing the handheld device, he then gripped the edge of his shirt, bringing it to his face to use a rag. In response to his action, Blossom found herself ogling his toned stomach and blushing brightly.

Releasing his shirt, the sergeant said, "Computer, connection to Botanical Garden sub-sector fifty-three. My island, real time."

The pink puff looked confused in response to that command until the scenery changed. Instead of the trashed office, they were now standing on a sandy beach at night. The moon hung above them like a grin, whispering of secrets that it knew and no one else did. Dark blue waves lapped at the pearly sand and a cool breeze tickled her neck. Blossom found herself looking around at the island with large eyes. There were palm trees just behind her and a small hut nestled in a little grove of said trees. Leafy bushes of some kind served as shrubbery around the half-door and the soft call of some kind of nocturnal bird could be heard.

"W-What _is_ this?" she asked, turning to Butch. She made a strangled noise in her throat as she realized that said ruff was shirtless.

He was oblivious to her staring as he answered, "My island. It's a sector of the Botanical Garden that I found a few years ago. I often have the simulator connect to it after training."

Tearing her eyes from his naked chest, she looked around and murmured, "It's beautiful." She left her eyes rest on the glistening waves for a moment before turning back to Butch. She frowned at him. "Now, I have some questions for you."

Shrugging, he walked past her towards one of the palm trees. He roughly elbowed it and he caught the two coconuts that fell. Sliding to the ground, he tossed her one and said, "Shoot."

Catching the fruit, she continued to frown at him before sighing and joining him at the base of the tree. She leaned against the plant and delivered a sharp chop to the coconut, cleanly splitting it in two. Peeling the two halves apart, she stared idly at the clear liquid in one before speaking.

"How did you get into the simulator?" she asked, deciding to cure that curiosity first.

Butch rolled the coconut in his hands before answering. "The simulator locks after nine at night. You need a code to enter it after that time. Most of the commanding officers have one."

Blossom hummed in response before nodding. That was logical, though it also had the sound of a curfew for the other subordinates of those commanding officers. They sat in silence after that, neither making a move to speak. The puff let out a soft sigh, thinking over what had happened that day. If she was being honest, not much had happened besides her finding out that Brick had her banned from the simulator and enlisting. There _were_ those memories floating in her mind that had arisen during her and Butch's training session. However, most were still murky, though there were certain things that jumped out at her. The strongest one being the memory that Butch dusting his hands off had caused.

She rubbed her forehead as the memory suddenly rushed out. It was assaulting her mind, almost overpowering her with its contents. She could see everything, hear it, could practically feel it. Her coconut fell from her grasp as she curled up, hands gripping her head. Butch was at her side, asking her if she was all right, but the memory had already taken over her senses.

_She panted, trembling as she forced herself to stand. How long had she been at it? How long had this fight gone on? She was so tired, but she didn't want them to see her as weak. She wasn't weak. Lifting her clenched fists, she prepared herself for the next attack. There was an aggravated huff and someone was kneeing her stomach at a tremendous speed, sending her flying into the gilded wall. Gasping, she peeled herself from the crater, falling to her hands and knees. Her pants were ragged now, her eyes impossibly wide. _

_"__Are you really this weak?" a cold voice asked and she lifted her head to see a woman with long dark hair staring down at her. "Pathetic. I can only hope those _punks_ of Hardly's are better than you."_

_"…'__m…not…we-weak," she growled, pink eyes flashing. The woman grabbed her by her scalp and lifted her, causing her cry out in pain._

_"__Really now?" The woman sneered, dropping her and dusting off her hands. "And _this_ is what the Earth had protecting it? No wonder we took it over so easily."_

"Blossom!" Butch's voice cut through her memory at the same time the sharp slap to her cheek registered. Hissing out an angry "ow", she punched Butch automatically, clutching her cheek. She glared at him, rubbing the sore area.

"Did you really have to hit me?" she snapped, the memory still buzzing around her head.

"How the hell else was I supposed to snap you out of your fucking trance?" he responded, also holding his cheek. "You certainly weren't answering when I called your damn name."

Making an undignified noise, Blossom turned her back on him, glaring out at the sea. A part of her knew she was acting childish, getting annoyed at him for hitting her, but another part also knew that there were other ways to snap her out of it. And then, there was a whole other part that felt touched about the fact he was even worried enough to try and snap her out of it. Wrapping her arms around her knees, she stared at the dark sky, dusted with virtual diamond-like stars. She sighed softly, hugging herself tighter. She was confused as to why Butch would do that for her. He was Brick's right hand man, wasn't he? He certainly acted like his brother's bodyguard at least. But if he was…then why was he acting like this?

"Butch," Blossom said and then continued, not waiting for a reply, "why are you doing this?"

He didn't pretend not to understand her. She was surprised by that show of maturity, but was even more surprised by his response. His voice was low as he said, "Because you deserve the benefit of a doubt."

Eyes widening in surprise, she turned to him, cheeks flushing. He wasn't looking at her, just staring up at the sky. Had he really said that? Her eyes glistened with tears and she swallowed thickly, averting her gaze. Of all the people to say that, Butch was one of the ones she had least expected. Shifting closer to him, she gently bumped her shoulder against his.

"Why would you say that?" she asked and Butch snorted.

"You make it sound like I said something bad," he remarked, glancing at her before letting out a breath. "God. I fucking _hate_ this sensitivity shit. Okay. Basically, when me and my brothers first came back to Townsville, everyone pretty much didn't trust us. Expect Mrs. Cavadini. For some reason, she trusted us despite the fact we were known villains. So, if anyone deserves to be trusted, it should be you." He turned fully to her then, his dark green eyes delving into hers. "Even if you were held by the aliens."

Maybe it was the intensity of his gaze, but Blossom found herself blushing helplessly as she took in what he had just said. She knew he was being sincere, as she had unwittingly entered his mind when he had explained his reasoning. The memories that had filled his mind were enough proof for her to believe him. In addition, for whatever reason, she liked the fact that he did maybe trust her. Sure, it bothered her that he did, considering who he was, but at the same time, it comforted her that someone besides her close friends and family trusted her.

"…thank you," she murmured. He gave her a lopsided grin in response.

For a few more moments, they sat in silence, but unlike before, it was rather comfortable. Blossom sat close to Butch, not leaning on him, but resting close enough that there was a slight pressure on his shoulder. It was actually nice, sitting there with him, and she could almost laugh at that. If you would have told her eight years ago that she would be sitting on a virtual beach with the rowdiest of the Rowdyruff Boys, she would have called you mentally disabled. Nevertheless, here she was sitting close to a man she had once considered the most psychotic of her and her sisters' foes.

It was pleasant sitting there under the stars. The soft sound of the waves mixed together with the whispering of the palm fronds and simulated birdcalls were making Blossom sleepy. This natural lullaby combined with the energy she had expended in her fight with Butch was proving almost too much for her. Yawning, she leaned more heavily on said ruff's shoulder, blinking blearily. He shifted and chuckled lightly, nudging her.

"C'mon, red," he said, grinning widely as she just grumbled at that. He stood, his shirt thrown over his shoulder, and held out a hand to her. She looked surprised that he did so, but took it anyway, pulling herself up. Once she was on her feet, Butch said, "Computer, end simulation."

In the next instant, the island was gone and they were back in the rectangular white tiled room. Blossom almost felt bad about leaving the simulated paradise, but shook it off. At least she had used the simulator. However, as the two superhumans left the room, she found herself still a bit antsy. It wasn't as bad as it had been earlier, but it was still there and that made her frown. Butch must have noticed her frown because he turned to her, a knowing look in his eye. She frowned at this, eyes narrowing at him as he chuckled.

"Tomorrow night. Same time, same place?" he asked, winking at her.

She stared at him for a moment, torn between being unimpressed and amused. Then what he said registered and her mouth formed an O shape. He just stood there, watching her gain her thoughts, and then, just as he opened his mouth to remark, she beamed at him. Whatever Butch was going to say, he choked on and just stared at her as Blossom gave him her answer.

"Yes!"


	9. Secret Meetings

**Storm**

_Trivia: My writing style changes halfway through because this was partly written before I had that horrendous hiatus. Also check my profile for an 8tracks playlist for Storm!_

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><p><span><strong>Chapter 8: Secret Meetings<strong>

One of the few things that Blossom was allowed to do at the Resistance was use the library as much as she wanted. Said room was huge, as big as the cafeteria at least, though she was certain that it could possibly be larger. There were three floors, the third and second of which were both open to the ground floor. Most of Blossom's days were spent there, reading book after book and sometimes watching the group of children that Ms. Keane taught. There weren't many, barely twenty, as the Townsville branch wasn't an ideal place to raise children. Most families with young children moved to areas with less alien activity, or so she had heard. Honestly, Blossom couldn't blame them for moving. Being so close to the heart of the Narcassian empire was less-than-ideal for a growing family.

The pink puff currently sat curled up on a ridiculously uncomfortable couch on the second floor, staring at the pages of Sun Tzu's _The Art of War_ without truly seeing them. It wasn't that it was boring to her; in fact, she found it very interesting and highly educational. However, every time she tried to focus, her mind always went back to what had happened over the past month. She still couldn't believe at times that it had been a month since she first came to the Resistance. And, boy, had a lot of things happened over the course of those four weeks.

The first and foremost experience of hers from those weeks was the secret training sessions she had with Butch. It was almost ridiculous how exhilarated she felt whenever she thought back to them. She had never realized how satisfying it felt to fight without the use of plans and just on instinct. She had told herself that she wanted to work on, and out, the piles of strategies in her mind, but the moment she stepped into the simulator with the green ruff, everything she planned went out the window. His fighting style was almost entirely instinct and that counteracted Blossom's telepathy. Clear, decisive thoughts were easy to read, but the quick flashes of emotion and thought from Butch were too confusing for her to read.

Therefore, she herself had to rely on instinct and plain old deduction.

From her training sessions, and from memories of past battles between Butch and Buttercup, Blossom knew that Butch relied heavily on his sheer physical strength to win. However, she did notice as she fought him that at certain intervals he used his speed to his advantage. He was a muscle-brained lout, yes, but he was at least a somewhat smart muscle-brained lout. Because it was certain that if Butch had used merely his strength, she would have been severely disappointed. However, as he hadn't and had actually utilized his ridiculous speed that she had learned was his secondary special ability, their sessions had been rather enjoyable for her.

Of course, the secret meetings hadn't been all that had happened. In those four weeks, Blossom was reacquainted with a couple of old friends, namely Robin Schneider and Mike Believe. Robin was a nurse in the infirmary and was specially trained to attend all injuries and illnesses of the puffs and ruffs. Mike, in the meanwhile, was an intermediate officer in the Resistance, a sergeant like Butch, and was one of the few people with direct influence from Brick who believed in her. The first time she saw the two, she barely recognized them until Robin squealed her name and tackle-hugged her.

Robin's reaction to seeing her made the conflicted emotions inside her even more tangled. On one hand, she liked the fact that they did trust her despite her having been held prisoner by the aliens. However, on the other hand, she felt a little disappointed that they weren't being more cautious. That was why she agreed with the idea of what Brick was doing. Of course, she did believe he was taking it a little too far, but at the same time, she also feared what she could do herself. Yes, she knew that she remembered nothing and still had that underlying fear of Aterex, but at the same time, she knew her power had grown greatly and that there was a reason why she had been taken. Those bloody memories, with their faded and dark depths, that had arisen during her fight with Emmons and her training sessions sometimes attested to that theory.

Sighing, Blossom leaned her head back, her book lying forgotten on her chest. Thinking of her training sessions brought another thought into her mind. It amazed her that she could get away with them for so long. The Resistance was large, that was obvious, but it wasn't so large that two people sneaking out and using the training simulator wouldn't be noticed after long. It worried her that she and Butch were able to get away with it for so long without the slightest suspicion from Brick. There was no suspicious glance whenever Butch would greet her or interact with her in the hallways. There was no subtle hint in the way he talked to Butch or in the way he nonchalantly mentioned her when she was standing feet from him.

Brick was many things, but stupid was not one of them.

With knowing that, she was unbelievably worried about whether or not the red ruff knew about the training sessions. She would push the thought away and focus on something else, but her mind would go back to those sessions and, inevitably, the thought of if Brick knew. Moreover, despite the fear she felt, she wondered what Brick would do if he did know. She played with her bangs as she thought over that. He would be angry, so very angry, and suddenly she was shivering. The way those red eyes glowed in her mind was frightening and yet oddly enticing.

She let out a groan as someone called out, "There you are!"

Blossom sat up, her book falling to her lap as Robin hurried over to her. Smiling a bit, she said, "Oh, hello, Robin. What can I do for you?"

The brunette rolled her eyes, blowing some stray hairs from her face. "Uh, we're supposed to be going to see your dad?" At Blossom's furrowed brows, the nurse snorted. "The Professor said he could meet you today?"

"I…right, right." The redhead ran a hand through her hair, upsetting the bow tied in back. "I forgot."

Robin tilted her head, considering her friend. "Mm. You've been quite…absent-minded lately. Very unlike the Blossom that I knew."

"I've…had a lot on my mind lately," the pink puff responded, sighing softly. She gave the nurse a smile though, trying to dispel the murky thoughts that had entered Robin's mind. "But it's fine. It's mostly just me forcing myself to remember."

Not entirely convinced, Robin narrowed her eyes at Blossom. Cautiously, she said, "If you say so… But on that note!" She frowned as the redhead stood, leering in a motherly way. "Forcing yourself to remember will bring you nothing, but headaches! You can't force amnesia to go away. Sometimes it doesn't for a long time. You just have to let the memories return over time."

"I know that." Her voice came out sharp, even to her own ears, and she immediately gave Robin an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, but I know all that. It still doesn't stop me from trying to forcefully remember them." This was punctuated with a downhearted look before the redhead shook her head. "Anyway, shall we head to see the Professor now?"

"Fine, fine," Robin said airily, still frowning at her friend. She bumped Blossom's shoulder with her own. "Well, if you ever need someone to talk to…I'm here."

At Robin's encouraging smile, the pink-eyed woman felt that bubbly feeling of friendship. She returned her friend's smile, softly murmuring, "Thank you."

The two women set out then, descending the stairs to the first floor. They walked in a comfortable silence, passing by the gathered children for Ms. Keane's class. None of the children acknowledged their presence, save a little girl with pigtails and two little boys, one of which openly glared at Blossom. The little girl, however, gave said puff a large grin before she returned to her work. A small smile formed on the young woman's face from that.

She and Robin passed through the doors to the library and began their journey through the halls. The halls were still confusing as ever and the pink puff was thankful for her exploration of the halls during her four weeks there to help her navigate them. It didn't take the two women long to get to their destination, despite the numerous amount of times they were stopped. Once had been by Buttercup, asking what Blossom was up to before the raven-haired woman was cuffed in the ear by Bubbles. Yelping, her green sister had shot a fiery glare at the blue puff before grumbling to Blossom that she would see her later. It was very amusing to see the green puff grumble about the training that she needed despite how much she wanted to join the Resistance.

Another time had been by two coworkers of Robin's, both of whom had made it blatantly obvious that they highly distrusted Blossom. They hadn't said it, but their actions were like glaring flares. The looks of undisguised fear and doubt both irritated and saddened the redhead. While she respected their fear, at the same time, the overprotective way they acted about Robin annoyed her. The blue-eyed woman trusted her despite their misgivings (and her own, Blossom noted) and they should respect that, not treat Robin like a child. It had taken several minutes of nonsensical medical jargon for Blossom to lose her patience and, after a soft huff of indignation from the pink puff, Robin had told her coworkers that if they needed help to talk to one of the other nurses.

It was five minutes from then and the two friends were now standing outside the Professor's lab. Humming to herself, Robin typed in the pass code and, after the door hissed open, walked inside with her friend. The lab looked the same as it had when Blossom had first seen it, except now there were more people bustling around and there was a room with dark, blood red thoughts. Blossom shivered involuntarily, eyes instantly fixating on said door. A thermometer on the door read somewhere below freezing, but the cold did not deter the dark thoughts. Emmons was in there and, despite the strength of the thoughts, Blossom was sure he was dying. She wasn't sure how she came to believe this, but somehow she was certain that the Narcassian blood he had ingested was slowly corroding him, eating away at both his body and his mind.

Blossom was pulled away from this revelation at the sound of the Professor's voice. Pulling her gaze from the door, the pink-eyed woman settled it on her father figure as he hurried over to them. There was a large grin on his face that Blossom couldn't help returning. He just looked so happy for whatever reason.

"Hi, Professor," she greeted warmly.

He continued to smile as he answered, "I'm sorry it took me so long to get some time for us to talk, but I've just been so busy with analyzing the condition of Emmons." His face took on a brooding look as he showed them into a back room that looked very much like a small lounge. "It's quite…well, it's quite fascinating. His cell and DNA structure have _mutated_ somehow. Almost like…like _X-Men_ to sound like a geek." ("You are a geek, Prof," Robin said good-naturedly.) "But it's not like a mutation caused by radiation. There's _no_ cell damage at all! It's almost as if his body naturally mutated, but that mutation is now killing him."

A shiver passed through Blossom at that and she couldn't help glancing over her shoulder. She knew Emmons was dying. Somehow, though, it was much worse when the Professor acknowledged that fact. Shaking her head, she took a seat at the small round table and murmured a thank you as the Professor set down a mug of tea in front of her.

"It's because he ingested the blood," she said after the Professor and Robin sat down. Both looked at her with identical shocked looks that she didn't see because she had covered her eyes. "I…when he attacked me, I slipped into his mind and saw the memory of what happened to him." Uncovering her eyes, she clasped her hands together and leaned her mouth against them in a manner very similar to Brick. "A Narcassian forced him to drink its blood."

Robin's face contorted in a disgusted look as the Professor leaned forward eagerly.

"Do you remember something, Blossom?" he asked, eyes widening. "Something from…when you were with the aliens?"

Brows furrowing, the redhead didn't respond right away. She had remembered a lot in the weeks since she had been found. In fact, she had remembered something about the blood of the Narcassians, but it was still fuzzy. She knew that it didn't always have the same effect that had occurred with Emmons, but if she focused hard enough, she could just remember that those other times the blood hadn't been in its purest form. If she was remembering correctly, then somehow the blood was turned into the drug that had been used to control her.

"The blood…it only has this effect if it's in its purest state," she finally said, eyes focused on a small brownish smudge on the table. "It…was an ingredient in the drug used to keep me controlled."

There was silence before the both of them exploded. Robin was near hysterics, her voice an octave or so higher than it had been a moment ago. She was babbling on about something or other, but even Blossom couldn't make it out with the Professor's angry ranting about barbaric aliens and black demons and "If I had military experience, I'd give those aliens what for!" The pink puff watched them for a moment, both amused and shocked at their reaction, before calming them down.

"I'm fine," she reasoned, letting a small grin form on her face as she tugged Robin and the Professor back into their seats. "I metabolized the drug much faster than others. There were no side-effects either."

"Even still!" Robin cried, grabbing Blossom's hands. "Just the fact that the drug was made out of their _blood_ freaks me out! I mean, look how it affected Emmons!"

"I have to agree with Robin, Blossom," the Professor added, fixing his tie. He wrung the silken material between his fingers as he looked at his daughter. "…it's a scary thought, even with the knowledge that the blood was only an ingredient and that what happened to Emmons was because of the blood being in its purest form. It's…frightening imagining what could have happened to you along with all that _did_ happen!"

Blossom felt a retort form on her tongue, but she let it die at the sight of the Professor's face. It must have been extremely hard on him not knowing what had happened to his "eldest" daughter. To him, who had been the only parental figure (save Ms. Keane) in the Girls' lives, it must have been a living hell, being without one of his precious babies. After all, though Buttercup wasn't immediately near him, she was still close enough that he could visit her. But Blossom? Blossom had been in to a place to which no one wanted would willingly follow her.

"All right," she sighed, slumping a little. "Moving on from that…Professor, I've wanted to ask you about our special abilities."

The Professor carefully sipped his tea as he raised a questioning eyebrow. Placing the cup down, he folded his hands on the table and leaned forward. "Primary or secondary?"

"Secondary," Blossom answered after a moment of deliberation. She had long since accepted the random way in which their primary special abilities had formed, but she wanted to know more about why they had developed the abilities they had.

"Hmm. I see," the Professor said as he leaned back in his chair. "I take it you want to know why, or rather, _how_, they developed. Well, I've come up with a theory about that. I think some of you developed the powers through a desire to be something. Ah, take Buttercup and Butch for example. Butch's secondary ability is extreme super speed, yes? He once told me that he wanted to be the fastest when he was little…that he hated being second best to Boomer in that front. And now, what does he have?"

"Extreme speed," Blossom murmured and her father nodded.

"Precisely. And Buttercup has always wanted to be the strongest and she developed what we have dubbed her berserk mode," he continued. "Thus making her the strongest when said mode is activated. On the other hand, I think some of you developed abilities not from the desire to be something, but simply as an amplification to the abilities that you already had. Take Bubbles, for example. She's always had a great prowess with her voice, such as her sonic scream and her ability with languages. Therefore, because she had no desire for anything that could affect her physically, she simply developed powers that were similar to those she already had. Her hypnosis voice and voice mimicry.

"Boomer, however, is like Butch and Buttercup." The Professor rubbed his chin as he raised his eyes to the ceiling. "He said he always wanted to be normal and to blend in…thus he developed invisibility and illusionary powers that expand no more than his own body. As for you and Brick… I believe Brick developed telekinesis because, and this is just a hypothesis, because he has such a strong will. Your telepathy, I would assume, probably developed because you've always had that uncanny knack to read people."

"Hmm…that makes sense," Blossom murmured, pressing her right index knuckle to her lips. "That certainly does explain our secondary abilities. However…it doesn't explain the empathy link I share with Bubbles and Buttercup."

The Professor frowned, pressing a hand to his mouth. "I…am not entirely sure about that," he confessed, his voice slightly muffled. "What I've come to believe is that the link was formed because of the distance between you three."

"Huh?" Robin looked utterly confused as Blossom asked seriously, "What do you mean?"

"Ah…what I'm trying to say is that the three of you slightly depended on the emotions of each other when you fought. If you remember correctly, whenever all three of you shared an emotion, your power was nearly tripled, almost quadrupled, in strength," the Professor explained, picking up his teacup again. He took a sip and blinked, looking down at the cup. He hadn't realized he had finished it. Clearing his throat, he placed the cup down and leaned forward, placing his elbows on the table. "These are all hypotheses, of course, and guessing, but that's all I can say."

His "eldest" daughter just nodded as she turned everything over in her mind. It certainly made sense, even if it was a hypothesis. Folding her hands, she pressed the entangled appendages to her mouth as she leaned forward slightly. The way she had developed her telepathy, the way that empathy link tugged ever so slightly on her psyche. Her glazed pink eyes flickered up to her father a moment, unintentionally reading the organized, scientific thoughts going through his mind. Most of them were clipped as if he was quickly going over plans of action. And, for all she knew, he could be. A sudden influx of urgency from outside the room shattered it, though.

The door to the lounge opened and Elmer rushed in panting, hastily pushing up his glasses. At the sight of Elmer's face, both the Professor and Blossom stood, their chairs clattering as they did. The Professor moved quickly around the table and towards the young man, who gasped to bring oxygen to his lungs. The elder man placed a hand on his shoulder and Elmer looked up, still gasping like a fish.

"They…need you…Em…mons…life…help…!" he panted, fumbling in his pocket for his inhaler.

The Professor stared at Elmer with wide eyes for the briefest of moments before running towards the door. Just as he reached it, he turned, looking back at the panicked faces of Blossom and Robin. His dark eyes met his daughter's and the pink puff frowned before nodding. Flashing them a weary grin, he rushed through the door.

Once the Professor left, Robin looked at Blossom, who was standing stock still and staring at the door. Though she didn't have any kind of special ability, the nurse knew that her friend was listening, or trying to listen, to what was going on in the other room. She knew her well enough to know that the redhead was blaming herself. It was one of the things she had noticed about Blossom in their years as friends, at least before she was taken. The Powerpuff Leader piled all the responsibility onto herself and if something went wrong, it was because of her. Watching her back, Robin felt her heart go out to her friend. Even though she had no reason to hold any responsibility, even though she didn't have the opportunity to do so in the Resistance, Blossom still piled it onto her shoulders. Standing with a sigh, Robin gently touched her friend's shoulder, bringing the pink-eyed puff's attention to her.

"There's nothing you can do," Robin murmured, squeezing her shoulder. "And all of this? _It is not your fault_. What happened to Emmons is _not_ your fault."

Blossom looked torn and turned away from her friend. While she had told them about the blood, she hadn't told them about what the alien had told him to do. It still scared her how far they were willing to go to get her. How many people would they use? How many innocent lives would be taken just for them to attempt to get to her? Her chest burned at the thought. If the aliens were that desperate enough, then no one was safe. At least, no one who wasn't in the protective confines of the Resistance.

"…but what if it is?" she asked softly, so softly that Robin had to lean in close. "What if I _am_ at fault?"

Lips pressed firmly in a line at that, her friend didn't answer and instead turned an accusing leer to Elmer who was still in the room. The young man squeaked and shuffled out hurriedly. The nurse watched him with that same accusing look, but the moment he was out of the room, she was frowning thoughtfully.

"It doesn't matter," she finally said, her voice firm. Blossom was about to argue, but Robin turned to her with an expression that brought her up short. "_It doesn't matter_. Because you've been through hell and back." Not waiting for her pink friend's response, she pulled her from the room. "Let's go before Emmons goes into the death throws and things get bad. And before Brick arrives."

Blossom let Robin lead her from the room. But as they left, passing the frantic scientists and the doctors that had been called in, she couldn't help looking over her shoulder at the chaos. Guilt built in her chest, but she could do nothing besides let Robin lead her away from it all. They were just leaving when the first of Emmons' screams echoed through the lab.

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><p>It had been the middle of hand-to-hand combat training when Bubbles had been called away. The blonde-haired woman had had Buttercup in a submission hold before her communicator went off. She barely released her growling "older" sister before she was heading out of the door. That left Buttercup frozen in a push-up position as she watched Bubbles' progress across the room and out of the door. It was as if the blonde had forgotten all about what she was doing. No one else, besides Brick and his brothers, could train Buttercup. However, it was pretty much accepted that Butch was terrible at teaching and Brick was far too busy, leaving the two blondes left. Bubbles had grudgingly volunteered, mostly because of pent up anger at the raven-haired woman. Not that Buttercup actually knew or suspected that, though the dull flares of emotion coming from the blue puff did often occur when they trained.<p>

Buttercup couldn't be trained by anyone without super powers. Thus, seeing as her senior officer and personal trainer had just flown the coop, the green puff hurried after her, sparing the other recruits a vicious grin as she disappeared through the door. However, once she was through, there was nothing on the other side, save a few people heading in random directions. (She still wasn't sure about the layout of things in the Resistance, but she at least knew where the essential places were: the cafeteria, her apartment, the training room, the Professor's lab, and the door out.) Choosing the most logical way (read: taking a guess), the green puff flew hurriedly down it before any of the other officers could stop her escape. It had been her choice to join, but she still felt irritable at having to listen to them.

It was much more natural to listen to Blossom, but even the redhead had urged her to comply with the orders…even _Brick's_. That got Buttercup really angry. Brick had almost killed Blossom on numerous occasions; the green puff could vividly see the multitude of cuts, bruises, fractures, and breaks that had littered the pink puff's body. She had always had an uncanny memory about their battles; while for Blossom and Bubbles each one melted into another, or so Buttercup assumed, for her, each battle was set apart by the wounds they received. The battles with no wounds were just a blur of color. It was because of those memories that she was angry at Blossom's compliance to Brick's wants.

With her emotions growing into a tizzy, the raven-haired woman nearly missed Boomer heading in the direction of the Professor's lab at an accelerated pace. Curious, and hoping that he knew where Bubbles had gone, she followed, flying next to him as he ran.

"Aren't you supposed to be training?" Boomer asked without looking, his jacket flapping from his strides.

"_Lieutenant Utonium_ ran off in the middle of it," she responded, crossing her arms as she looked at him. "What's the rush?"

Boomer frowned. "Something's up with Emmons."

At the name, Buttercup's sneering smile slipped. Her body instantly became tense, preparing itself for a fight she didn't even know was coming, and she gritted her teeth. If something was up with Emmons, the soldier who Blossom had iced, then it was rational to assume that whatever was going to happen was going to bite the pink puff in the posterior.

Buttercup was not going to let anything bad happen to her leader.

"Is he finally going to bite it?" Buttercup asked, eyes focusing on their destination as they rounded a corner.

The lab was within eyesight and Boomer looked ever graver than before. "He probably already did."

When the two entered the lab, the utter chaos Robin and Blossom had left was just winding down. Bubbles, Brick, and Butch stood outside the door to the room in which Emmons had been stored. Steam rolled from the door and Buttercup had to remind herself that they had to keep him at a low temperature so that his body didn't start rapidly breaking down. No one knew what had caused the breakdown or the mutations, though Blossom had once murmured to Buttercup it had to do with blood, but the green puff didn't understand what that had to do with anything. Blood was just blood, wasn't it? Albeit, there were diseases transferred by blood, but that didn't have anything to do with Emmons…right?

Floating behind Boomer, the green puff managed a cold smile at Bubbles' furious look, but she didn't spare her ex-sister anymore than that. She was more focused on finding her father. From Robin, whom she was overjoyed to be reacquainted with, she had learned that the Professor had spent many a sleepless night pondering over Emmons and had many a time ended up in the infirmary, either because of his insomnia or because of some test of some sort. He had become very attached to the case, though no one knew if it was because of the strangeness of it or because Blossom was involved in it. Either way, it had become his pet case.

The Professor emerged from the steaming room, his face looking hollow and gray. His lips were pressed in a tight line and he just stared at the ground for a moment before giving any attention to the five waiting super-powered people. Even then, though, he didn't say anything and just shook his head. There were no words needed to express what had happened. Emmons was dead…and from the exhausted look on the Professor's face, it hadn't been a pretty end.

Buttercup floated over to her father's side and wrapped an arm around his waist, squeezing reassuringly. Because she knew that despite Emmons' death, no matter how gruesome or terrible, the Professor was just as, if not more so, worried about how Blossom was going to be dragged into it. After all, Blossom had been the one who froze him. Blossom was the one who had fought him. Blossom was the one who Emmons had attacked. It all went back to her and everyone had mixed emotions about the once beloved Powerpuff leader.

"So he's dead?" Butch, of course, was the one to break the silence and he let out a heavy breath. "_Finally_. It's been, what? A month or something since he was brought in as an Emmonsicle?"

"Can you be anymore insensitive?" Buttercup remarked, making a face as she pulled away from the Professor's one-armed hug.

"What? I'm just stating what we were _all_ thinking," her counterpart said with his hands out stretched. "I mean, really, we were all waiting for Emmons to kick it."

"You have the sensitivity of a rock, you know that?"

"What did you find, Professor?" Brick asked before Butch could respond. His expression and voice were flat, though there was a very slight tightness to his posture.

The Professor shook his head, rubbing his forehead. "His mutation was biological, like he just started spontaneously mutating. Almost every day, when we rose the temperature enough for him to function, he always said he needed to kill someone." His mouth twisted and Buttercup cut her glaring contest with Butch to turn worriedly to her father. "He…He always said he needed to kill Blossom."

"Kill her? Why?" Bubbles asked, looking less angry and more confused now that she focused on her creator.

"I don't know," the Professor murmured softly, running his hands through his hair.

For a moment, Brick let the scientist fuss angrily with his hair before asking, "And what of the mutation?"

This question caused the older man to pause and look up almost uncomprehendingly at the red-eyed general. Then he bit his lip and sighed, shoulders slumping.

"The mutation, as I mentioned before, is biological, almost natural in occurrence. No cell or tissue damage happened, he just started mutating." Here the Professor paused, picking his next words carefully. "I…had a meeting earlier with…with Blossom. And I mentioned some of what happened to Emmons with her."

Brick's face was unreadable, but there was a certain dark cast to it and his eyebrows were more furrowed. The other four had various stages of shock on their faces, though Butch looked otherwise unperturbed and Buttercup had a slightly happy tinge to her gaping mouth. However, the Professor only looked at Brick, who seemed to be fighting some kind of internal battle. Whatever the outcome of that battle within him, the red ruff sighed almost violently, as if accepting the fact that the Professor couldn't keep anything from his daughters when they outright asked.

"And…what did she say?" he finally asked, his voice almost painful in its flatness.

Wincing, the Professor said, "She said she looked into his mind and found that a Narcassian made him drink its blood."

"Ewww." Both Bubbles and Buttercup cringed at that, making similar disgusted faces. Even Boomer looked less than thrilled at the knowledge, his lip curling with his own disgust. No matter how used to seeing blood they were, the action of _ingesting_ it was just a step too far…_especially_ ingesting Narcassian blood.

"What is the significance of ingesting an alien's blood aside from this mutation?" Brick inquired, but his eyebrows were furrowed in thought. He was probably puzzling through the significance himself, but waited for the Professor's two cents anyway. He wanted to know if the conclusion he drew was the same as the older man's opinion.

"Apparently Narcassian blood as a mind controlling effect that is a natural attribute to it," the Professor explained, rubbing his mouth. "Again, taking from what Blossom has told me, the mutation effect that occurred in Emmons only occurs when the blood is in its purest state. The blood was apparently an ingredient in the drug the Narcassians used to keep Blossom under their control."

For a moment, there was total silence, as the five superhumans looked him, trying to find any hint of jest or trickery in his face. When it was clear that he was deadly serious, Butch breathed out, "Jesus", while Bubbles tried to tame her trembling bottom lip. Boomer and Brick were the only two who seemed unaffected, though Boomer's mouth was tight and his jaw was visibly taut. Buttercup, on the other hand, had her mouth agape in shock before it snapped shut and that all too familiar green fire slowly encased her. She bared her teeth in a snarl, but the Professor stared straight back at her, frowning.

Around her, the other four tensed as they waited for her to do something…_anything_. If the Professor hadn't been staring her down, Buttercup might have shot through the ceiling, through the rock layers over top of the Resistance, just to get to Aterex's black city. She would have let nothing stop her, would kill thousands and thousands, all to get vengeance for her sister. She didn't care how anyone would respond to that. She just wanted to see that filthy, putrid blood that those aliens dared make her sister ingest in the form of a drug. It would be wonderful and bloody and there would be carnage _everywhere_. Her monster purred as glowing green eyes stayed locked with fatherly blue ones.

"I'll kill them," she promised him, the aura flickering before she let go of her anger, of her blood thirst, of her pain. She recited a quick mantra, eyes still glued to her father's orbs. "I'm going to kill them all."

"You'll get your chance," the Professor responded, letting out a relieved breath, before looking at Brick. He was still waiting for a response from the young man.

In truth, Brick wasn't sure how to articulate his emotions. The blood-drug was disgusting, yes, and the blood's effects in its purest form were certainly terrifying, but he didn't want to think about them in correlation to his counterpart. He didn't want to think about what the drug made her do. He didn't want to acknowledge the fact that the real reason why he didn't allow Pinky to join the Resistance was that he didn't want her near him. The mere thought of her sent his blood racing and boiling and made his muscles tense and battle ready. Logically, Brick knew that his counterpart would never do anything against her moral code, would never do anything to harm her family or friends. He knew that, knew that her faking her amnesia was ridiculous, knew that all Buttercup's accusations were practically spot on.

Brick hated the pink puff and knew that if they were together for more than needed without anyone around, he would…do something. Attack her, hurt her, _murder_ her. The knowledge that she had been controlled with a drug by the aliens didn't really faze him. It was logical. Pinky was too noble and, dammit, he hated that. He wanted her to have been tempted by the aliens, to not have been completely controlled by the drug. He wanted her not to be pure and innocent. That way he could have an excuse to continue keeping her out of the military. Just a little reason, just a tiny one, so he could prolong the distance between them.

"So Pinky was controlled with a blood drug," he finally said, keeping his face as neutral as possible. "Admittedly, this lifts some suspicion, but without exact knowledge, I will uphold the title of 'potential threat' until further notice."

He waited for a beat and wasn't disappointed when Buttercup whirled around with a vicious snarl. "What the fucking hell! The Prof basically just told you that Blossom had no control when she was with the Narcassians and you _still_ refuse to let her join the Resistance!? What is this bull shit!?"

"We don't know to what extant the drug controlled her. Without the knowledge of how strong the drug was, we cannot know just how much control she had over her mind when she took it. For all we know, she might have had some semblance of control even under the influence. For now, she is still a possible threat," Brick explicated, lifting his chin a little. The green puff bared her teeth at him.

"If it's any help, Blossom did tell me that she metabolized the drug faster than others," the Professor chimed in, placing a hand on Buttercup's shoulder. The dark-haired woman narrowed her eyes, but did not break eye contact with the red ruff. "She probably wasn't the only one under the influence of the blood drug."

"However, without actually meeting another person who was influenced, we can't just throw caution to the wind," Bubbles finally said, but the look on her face was anything but accusatory. She looked conflicted more than anything else and refused to look at either Buttercup or Brick. "For now…I agree with the General's continued caution."

The hiss from Buttercup was dissatisfied, but with the Professor holding her shoulder, she dared not do anything. As much as she wanted to hit Brick or her sister, she grudgingly accepted that, while they _still_ didn't trust Blossom, they were accepting of the fact that the aliens had controlled her when she had been in their claws. It would have to be enough for now. The raven-haired woman huffed and crossed her arms, but she didn't look outright hostile anymore. Now her facial expression showed more aggravation and she rolled her eyes.

"I should really get used to you guys being stubborn," she admitted, leering Brick, "but it _still_ pisses me off."

"What? More than I do?" Butch cut in and his counterpart looked his way, rising an eyebrow.

"Oh, you've gotten tame over the years, Butchy boy. You need to step up your game."

The green ruff dramatically placed a hand over his heart. "You wound me!"

Both Buttercup and Boomer snorted at that and Butch got at least part of the response he wanted. It was pretty sucky that Emmons was dead, but an argument over Blossom wouldn't solve anything. That was also something the pink puff herself didn't need. She already had enough on her plate; Butch had been witness to a couple of her memory episodes and both times he had no idea what to do. He had grudgingly asked Robin about it, surprising the young woman, and she had told him there was really nothing that any of them could do. Blossom had to remember by herself. He didn't want to admit that he was becoming kind of attached to her. It somewhat freaked him out. For the moment, though, he would play the fool and get their siblings' minds off Emmons and her. It was better than getting all sappy and emotional.

As the green ruff joked with Buttercup, subtly edging his brothers, the two puffs, and the Professor away from Emmons' room, Butch thought over the green puff's words. Maybe he was getting tame…

* * *

><p>Blossom had been ready to go to sleep, mind still full of the day's events, when her communicator went off. Excitement had immediately buzzed across her skin. She knew that out of maybe four people, only one ever sent her a message so late at night. The message had been short, simply a time with "YN" tacked on at the end. After all that had happened, though, she hadn't been sure how to answer. For the last few days, she and Butch had been sparring almost nonstop. It was almost as if he was training her and that might actually thrill her if it was true. However, after Emmons' death and the unhidden hostility that had followed from his comrades, Blossom had felt the weight of their anger and grief on her bones. She felt exhausted from fighting off those red, red thoughts, but the temptation of sparring, of releasing that responsibility, was much too sweet to pass up.

And so, she sat on one of the benches as she waited for Butch to show up. She felt a little guilty that she was partaking in something that brought her pleasure despite the death that she had indirectly caused. She reasoned that she was doing this in Emmons' honor, so that she was strong enough to protect everyone from the Narcassians. To get that strength, she needed to train, and who was better to train with than the self-proclaimed strongest Rowdyruff? Running her hands over the face, the redhead tried to ignore the flutter of nervousness in her stomach. She was still worried about Brick finding out, if he wasn't already aware. She knew Butch would never tell, mostly because she threatened bodily harm of a _delicate_ nature and could read his mind, but she still worried. Brick had his ways and he wasn't stupid.

Biting her lip, Blossom perked up at the pneumatic hiss that heralded Butch's entrance. The green ruff waved at her, floating from the door to the simulator. Blossom quickly moved to his side, frowning slightly at the swirl of thoughts in his head. She wasn't being mean when she said that Butch was usually a simple-minded person. He didn't usually let things bother him, but she could tell that he was mulling over something. She just hoped it didn't have anything to do with her. She didn't want to cause him any problems, considering what he was doing for her.

"You'll get wrinkles if you worry so much," the sergeant remarked, grinning lopsidedly as she swatted his arm.

She smiled in response. "You don't worry enough!"

"I worry," he retorted and the smile faltered a little, his expression more subdued. He turned back to the simulator, punching in his access code. "Just…not very often."

His voice was softer and Blossom frowned at such an out of character reaction. She could tell that the green ruff had mellowed out considerably over the years. She certainly couldn't call him psychotic now, but such a soft voice wasn't like him. He should have just laughed it off, teasing her for her motherliness and chastisement, not make a face like the one he was making at that moment. How did she respond to that? Cautiously, she touched his arm and opened her mouth to say something, ignoring the open door of the training simulator, when another voice echoed from what seemed like across the room.

"This is a surprise."

The voice wasn't surprised, though, but neither was it angry. It was painfully, painfully neutral and two pairs of wide eyes whorled towards the two faintly glowing irises coming towards them. Blossom felt her stomach fall and Butch hissed out a curse. The glowing-no…_burning_ eyes stopped ten feet away from them. The pink puff swallowed thickly.

No, Brick wasn't stupid. At all.


End file.
